Shades of Gray
by technicolor-goth
Summary: This story has been viciously murdered by disgruntled space aliens and replaced by an evil twin. -twitch-
1. Prologue: With the Wind

Shades of Gray

A/N: -deep breath- Ok, I made up almost every orcish thing in this fic, and many elvish things as well. But I haven't found anything that truly goes against any of it, either. So if there's anything I got wrong, I'm sorry in advance. I either couldn't find the information or it doesn't exist (or I was just too lazy to look), so I went by more of a realistic line of plot instead of so much legendy good vs. evil. I've never believed that a purely evil creature could come from something like the elves, anyway. Life is more complicated than dark and light. All tales have two sides, and I think it's about time we see the other side of this one, true to legend or not. I hope you all like it, but if you don't, that's ok too. I'll take your flames and your criticism as well as your compliments as received. 

Disclaimer: I own nothing of this fic save the character Erashnak, a few of the various situations in which she is to be placed, and some of the cultural characteristics that I have given to both the orcs and the elves. Everything else goes, of course, to the credit of J. R. R. Tolkien.

Scene: I always listen to music when I write, and you can be pretty sure that the story will go along with the music. I highly suggest you get a hold of this music if you plan on following the fic, or even if you don't, 'cause it's just good music. Throughout this story I've been listening mostly to The Time Machine Soundtrack, by Klaus Badelt. At least check out songs like #8 - Eloi, #10 - Stone Language, and #11 - Morlocks Attack. (Yes, I like soundtracks... -sigh-)

P.S.: I'll admit that this chapter is a little strange... I wrote the prologue and it only took a page, so I decided to add in a piece of first person that I wrote when I was brainstorming (hence the italics). I figured it would help you understand the character's emotions, appearance, and circumstance a little better, just as it had helped me to make her. The future chapters probably won't have any first person at all. This is just a space filler :). Now on with the fic!

Chapter 1: Prologue - With the Wind

~*~

A gentle wind touched the surface of the dark water, sending a procession of near-silent ripples across the reflection of a starlit sky. The tiny pinpricks of light wavered for a moment and then shone on as if the wind had never come. And yet there was a shiver in the forest, long leaves rasping their green and silver faces together in the chill breeze as if suddenly fearful, when the trees had always stood so boldly. The wind combed invisible fingers through their hair, all of them, not caring whether it be orc or elf they touched, ent or dwarf, man or maiar. Galadriel let her eyes take their time in opening once they had closed. Still the mirror reflected only the velvet expanse of a cobalt sky, seeming alive with the cold eyes of the stars. It was too chill a wind for a year so young in the warmth of summer. Too chill a wind to wrap itself about the earth unnoticed.

_Change, change is coming,_ it seemed to whisper, a soft sigh lingering in the arms of a baleful wind. _Change, so many changes, change is on the air, in the earth, in the water - change... Change is coming._

The throbbing, thunderous silence filled all the heavens with its words, flowing about tree and leaf, soaring over earth and water, curling about each feature of the night; the soft touch of a foreboding wind, too cold a wind, too ominous, for such a fair place. It was not unheard, not in Lothlorien nor in Rivendell, in Mirkwood nor in Gondor, in Rohan nor the Lonely Mountain's deepest caverns where it screamed, nor in Moria's dark halls where the first cries of a newborn creature came to accompany the melody that played already on the sudden, slow gust. Isenguard groaned in the assault of a wind toying with ancient alder and ash, Mordor moaned with the resonance of soft wind about the turrets of a tower whose fierce adornment would wish a lid to shield an eye wreathed in flame from a breath of cold enchantment, whispering to the night, _Change, change is coming..._

In the Shire small folk, short in stature, wide in girth, paused for a moment and turned from their smoke and ale to glance up at the sky and murmur of how strange it was, such a cold wind, how strange. Far east and west it flung, to the north and south it flew, and then as suddenly as it had come was gone. It was another of those moments, those moments when the future seems too uncertain a thing, when faith seems too fragile a weapon, when destiny seems a nagging threat to the mind, mortal and immortal alike.

Galadriel sighed then, realizing that she had been holding her breath. The mirror grew darker as morning neared, no shadow or hint of anything but the night sky creeping into the stillness of the water. It was like a stone, finely polished to reveal just a glimmer of the crystal stars within, and in its own way just as untouchable as the faint lights of its reflection. It was a strange expression that filled the the clear blue of her eyes then, a darkening shade of something near confusion, near acceptance, near understanding, too blended with the flowering taint of fear. Silently she tipped the silver basin and let the water flow away. It danced like silver in the luminance of the wood before drawing once more into the earth, ever searching out the sea.

The years passed, and the wind was forgotten. By lord and servant it was left behind as all things are, fading into so many pools where half-memories and near-lost dreams take abode, even as the water had faded into the earth. Galadriel smiled at her unknowing acceptance as she touched the silver bole of the mallorn whose leaves had heard her silent words most often.

_Change is coming, my friend, change is with the wind._ And so the years of waiting passed away.

~*~

My name is Erashnak. But those of my family often call me Era. I was born in the young warmth after spring, toward midsummer, long ago. It's hard to count the risings of sun and moon within the eternal dark of Moria. They stopped trying many years ago. And so I have no idea how old I might be.

I have seldom seen the sun before today. I've never seen it in the full of its circle, burning like a pale disk of silver-gold above the canopy. I've never felt how hot the sun's light really is. But my skin doesn't burn. Mother was afraid that it might, because my skin is not dark and strong like those of my kin. My skin is pale and smooth, like the sun. I have seen the sun rise, and I have seen it set. But before today, I've never seen the noon.

The moon, though, I have seen many times. But I have never stood in its light, letting silver and white radiance wash over my sallow skin. Mother says it makes me look like a ghost, so pallid, like death. In the sunlight, I can see a dull golden sheen about my darkened hair. But in the light of the moon, it is a dull silver the gleams in it. My hair has always been this ratty, darkish color, not the common black that it should be. I never knew how it takes on the colors of light before. Maybe my hair isn't so ugly.

But I don't lie to myself. I am not beautiful - I never was, and I never will be. I saw my reflection once, in the waters outside of Moria. Water doesn't reflect in the pitch black of the mines. For that I was grateful, I think. When I saw my face for the first time, I knew why even the bravest of warriors would try their best to have no need of looking in my eyes. They're a strange color, too light, watery, I suppose. Lighter outside, darkening until they reach the black that centers every eye. My lips are swollen, thick and curved into the strangest shape. They're discolored from the rest of me, a pale silvery-pink. I'm more than grateful that the rest of my skin is not that color as well.

I have always been weak. When I was born, I couldn't even hold my head up, and water came out of my eyes. Water still comes out of my eyes, sometimes. I try to stop it. No one likes it when my eyes water. But they haven't watered for years until now - I try to be strong, like my mother, and my father. But I am so weak... I'm too tall, and I'm too thin, gaunt like a corpse. But there never was much food about the caves. I've become quite fond of funguses - they mean that I don't have to eat those creatures that crawl about in the shadows. Weak, in even such tiny matters as these. I had to learn how to be strong in my own way, changing things about the use of my training, so that I could keep up with the others of my people as best I can. It was always hard, so very hard, and I know I'm failing. This is a battle that I simply cannot win. I'm not strong enough. I believe they were harsher on me, because they didn't think I should have been allowed to live. I should have been killed as soon as I was born.

You see, I don't look like my family at all. I look like an elf. Of course, I've never seen an elf. But I know what they are. I've seen what they can do. They're murderers. They hunt us as if we are rats growing fat on their grain. Most have yellow hair, eyes the color of the sky, ugly pale skin - like mine. I'm not quite the same. But I'm close enough. I'm close enough to be a character from a mother's tale, demon and child of prophecy both. Sometimes they look at me and I see hate burning in their eyes, pure and powerful hate. They jump back if they almost touch me. They flinch if they hear me laugh. But sometimes, when they don't know I'm looking, I see their hope as they watch me walk past. I despise their common glances - how they hate me. And so I have become very observant, watching cautiously to see that faint glimmer of belief. I know it isn't me they truly hate, but there are no elves here for them to scorn. Only me.

Once there was one kind. And then it became two, branching away in two different directions like the limbs of the holly trees that stand by the doors. Evil made us. The elves remained. Two pieces of what was once whole, we hate each other. And here I am, walking the knife's edge that has separated the two. I now see that I cannot go on without being cut. I will be cut many times. But I have come to accept the touch of steel - it doesn't mean that I must love it. I wonder if I will ever see an elf. I wonder if they will look at me like my own kind do. I wonder what they're like. But I don't think I want to meet one.

Many of us no longer live under the will of Him. Most never have. I don't know his name. No one says his name. Rarely have I seen one who is still under his power. Mother and Father have never let me meet one. They know the slaves of Him would kill me without a word or a thought. We have always fled from them. But now, now there are too many. They are coming back. He is coming back. Today, we left. We had no choice, my family and I.

No, my family did have a choice. But for some reason, none of the free orcs want me to die. I always thought that they wished me dead. But no, they want me to leave - and live. Many of my family have come with us. They alone are the ones who will look at me and let me see love. I don't truly understand love, but I know that it's here, with us. But there is so much pain here, too. I wish I had tried harder, while we still dwelled within the mines. But it's so hard to see when you aren't blind.

My father is gone. He fell in Moria, defending our escape. He died for us, so that we could leave. Many have fallen. So many. No one tells me to where we flee. It has not been long, but now we are in a forest. I've never been in a forest before. I always wanted to see it - but now I wish so much that we did not have to leave the mountain. Coming out of the dark was not worth so much pain. I never did see the noon sun, before today. It makes the others sick. I have never felt so well. I wish I could enjoy it, but I can't. I think my eyes are going to water again.

The moon is gone, now. I wish I could have seen the moon tonight. I'm so weary of the dark.

~*~

I closed my eyes then, and took a deep breath of the cool air, letting my mind wander so that I might not be forced to relive the past days again as I stood there that night. It was amazing how bright the darkness under the forest canopy truly was - not the lightless void of Moria - and yet still too dark for my ease. If this was the only dark known by the upper world, then it was bound to bring just as much darkness to the heart. But I liked it, standing there, the night and I, bleeding together as the world drew ever blacker toward the dawn. I look back, now, and I smile. How little I knew.

~*~

A/N: Upon further notice, it has been decided that I should inform you that this will not be an 'oh my god I love that amazingly-perfect, outrageously-beautiful, otherworldly-mary-sueish, help-me-I'm-being-attacked-by-ramdon-evil-doers-for-no-apparent-reason, wonderfully-intelligent-git, blast the fact that I've only know her for a week, let's get laid' fanfiction. I dare say I can write a better, and more realistic story than that. Besides, blossoming romance is so much better than dimwitted, horny elves, yes? Well... anyway, don't expect that kind of crap from me. 

In other words, this might take a while.

And that, my friends, is the result of refusing to give in to the most severe writer's block that I've ever had. Yes, the large bald spots now adorning my head did have quite a lot to do with it. *cough*review*cough*


	2. A Shocking Encounter

Shades of Gray  
  
A/N #1: When an orc has an elvish dream.... Mwahahahahahahahahaha!  
  
Chapter 2: A Shocking Encounter  
  
~*~  
  
Swift, jerking movements wove the image of her sight between the dense wood as if she were running too fast toward a much desired thing, or away from the object of utmost fear. Her mind tightened her throat in sheer, agonized abandon, as if to let instinct take over the fleet motions now required of her silent feet. She moved as a shadow or a beam of light, leaving no trail to mark its passing, running on the path she was now discovering with no more notice taken to her existence than the blowing of a gentle wind, already forgotten before it had ever been.  
Though she was certain that she could feel the exhilarating adrenaline of her sprint in every corner of her body, she could not see her ground-devouring strides, though the weightless moment of suspension came again and again before the soft contact of her foot as it met the ground, before the surge of power that threw the other foot forward, and then once more that fleeting moment when she felt she might never touch the earth again. And yet she seemed strangely near the ground, crawling, not running. But no, she was moving too fast... She had to be running.  
She couldn't hear the overwhelming beat of her heart, though she could feel it against her chest as if it were filling with blood again and again, but not quite able to push it all out once more, the beat becoming stronger and stronger as if it were swelling up, stealing all the blood from her body, leaving her cold and unfeeling, her heart fit to burst. The pounding of blood against her skin made her flesh crawl with shivers of cold sweat, now distinctly aware that she was very much apprehensive of where she might find herself in the end.  
In the end?  
Silvery blurs of young wood slipped past like phantoms enclosing along the way she must come, guarding her from escape. Gradually the green- mantled trees became older, larger, forced further apart, fleeting gleams of silver flashing from their canopies. But still there was only one way to go - it was not up to her anymore. The earth flew by too swiftly for her mind to react, all thoughts of turning around or even slowing down becoming useless as the now dominant command of her most primetive instincts screamed 'left! right! jump! faster!' in endless procession, her body unable to object. Flashes of gold began to grasp at her senses, darting glimpses of clear blue eyes puncturing her overloaded mind like small, sharp knifes being swiftly punched into her lungs again and again. The metallic gleam of an arrow's sharp and elegant tip brought a gasping attempt at a scream out of her frozen lips as instinct alone threw her to the side in a far from graceful leap.  
Panic is a tool. When all logical reason is found worthless or unattainable, it becomes the last defense against death. It opens another part of the mind, allowing a person to see in a way that they would never be able to see before. A person in full, pure panic, can quite often find a solution that the most logical mind would never have thought of. In fact, fighting panic is often far more dangerous than letting it go. No mind can do anything while at war with itself. But Erashnak didn't want to panic. If she panicked, she might never wake up, or wake up only to find that she had done herself mentally, or even physically, crippling harm. The paths of the mind run deep indeed, and the end could mean anything. Panic, in such a state, was like testing a sword on your throat, hoping that it wouldn't be sharp enough... A fool's attempt to stare death in the eyes and walk away. But how many swords in the world were so dull? How many were so sharp?  
She should never have allowed her mind to revert to instinct. No, she should have never let her mind slip into a state of dream at all. She knew how to prevent them. She'd learned long ago - the pitch black of Moria was like an endless slate on which an idle mind could draw any number of terrible pictures. She'd learned how to stop them in the virtual hell of eternal night, a place where one might often come to wonder whether their eyes were open or not, whether what they were seeing was real or just a thought. Now why was she being overcome in a place so much kinder to the senses? And where... where was she?  
Are you sure you're not awake?' She spun around in halting, unstable steps, the cold air burning her lungs as they swelled against her chest, pushing up bone and muscle as she hungrily sucked in the frigidly toxic air, unable to stop though the pain was beginning to slow her senses down to a drifting state of consciousness. A pale hand stretched out toward her suddenly, unfolding long fingers like some putrid otherworldly flower, reaching out for her, some specter of the dark lands come to pull her down into the earth.  
She leapt back in an overwhelming jolt of fear. Erashnak knew enough to know that all she needed to do was believe it was all real, and it would be just as much. But the nameless creature who had replaced her didn't know how to turn the thought into reality instead of the image. The image was more real. The thought couldn't be trusted.  
So instinct still had hold of her. 'If you can't trust yourself, who can you trust?' The hand inched forward - the demon it belonged to didn't want her to leave, it wanted her to stay forever, straining toward her as if she was its last chance to grasp life and live. Erashnak felt the body she had been set in reach out its hand in return, reaching with trembling fingers toward death itself... 'Is it so terrible?'  
Their fingers brushed, and Erashnak watched as if she were standing behind. Throwing herself backward in righteous panic, stumbling steps hauled her away. She was growing weaker as if the will inside her was spilling out in every inescapable exhale, drifting away. Now given full sight of the ground, she focused dully on a pendant with its silver chain draped delicately over dark spears of grass. The stone that had been set in the trinket seemed to glow like rippling water just concealed from the sun. It was... amazing, intoxicating, she thought numbly, and it seemed as if the stone was waking up, becoming real, turned to a swan gathering its wings to fly. She couldn't look away from the living stone - it was the focus of her every sense. There was a snapping sensation as her knees unlocked, and it felt like flying to fall.  
The ground rose up to meet her, and abandon filled her mind with an empty calm - acceptance. Her knees slammed against the earth, sending sharp tendrils of pain through every nerve as bone and tendon jarred with the sudden impact. A scream rose in her throat, an overwhelming need to scream. Scream, and the pain would be less, it had to be. But all that came was a gasp, a gasp that tore her throat raw.  
  
~*~  
  
Eyes flying open, Erashnak found herself staring at rough stone where soft earth had been. A wail of pain like fire lashing at fuel was beginning to thread up from her knees, weaving around each fiber and every vein. Her breath was deep, ragged, and now noticeably abrading the newly revealed skin that had been opened up in her chest. She coughed, and wished she hadn't, warm blood splattering her hands. Once her trembling had calmed from its intensity and warmth began slowly to return to her skin, she began to let her mind start working again. Moving to sit, more falling than not, she touched the cap of her right knee with a hesitant gentleness. The pain that flared at her touch was not as much as she'd thought it would be. It wasn't smashed. But it could still be damaged. Tearing away her leggings she inspected the pale skin carefully. A strange dark color was beginning to flower across her knees, and she sighed. Bruises she was used to. Most of her skin was darkened by the lingering taint of them, some soon to fade, others younger and still tender, yellowing shades of healing mingled in. Bruises could be ignored, so long as they weren't too deep, or too many at once. But if she'd have broken something...  
The thought was too much to entertain. How could she fall asleep? How could she let herself dream, at a time like this? Her defenses were already so weak, but the last few days of running and fighting and running again had already numbed her last shields.  
Sliding over to lean against a tree she sighed, wiping the blood off of her face with her just as bloody hand. And now she'd reopened the abrasions in her throat again. Her heedless screams in Moria had insured this constant re-wounding for quite a time - at least until she ran out of reasons to breath so hard. They had all seen it, how sallow her skin was becoming, worse even than her usual pallor. How weak she was becoming, even compared to how weak she already was. Loss of blood and loss of heart was taking its toll on them all. But none doubted that Erashnak would be the first to collapse and die. It was the simple truth - she was the weakest.  
Erashnak took a deep, carefully slow breath, and replaced her leggings in a way that no crease or fold would press over the damaged skin. After staring at the ground for a moment and more, she realized that she had let her mind focus on nothing yet again, pulling her into what might be called a trance. After all, there wasn't anything all that interesting about the ground, sitting at the coupling of soil and stone where it seemed one of the very bones of the earth had been thrust up from the ground, accepted by the moss and creepers of the forest long ago. The bark of the tree at her back could be felt only as a rough grating against the stiff leather she wore in patched armor, hardly worthy of a name.  
Exhaling as deeply, she glanced up at the sky as it danced between the outspread leaves of the canopy. The moon had wasted so swiftly, now nothing but an empty hole in the pattern of the stars. The cold lights seemed to shine with their purest radiance, now that the sky was theirs alone. It was a pale light that washed the world in a fairy glow, like a dream. Not like Erashnak's dreams. Like - what a dream was supposed to be. 'But then, how do you know?'  
A cool, gentle wind sighed about the trees, pricking gossamer tendrils of her hair only to let them fall again, running soft fingers through last year's litter of leaves that lay at her feet. It seemed to be playing with them, scooping them up and whirling them around, and letting them float back to earth, filling the night air with their rasping dance. She found herself watching the gentle sway of the trees, listening wordlessly to the quite sounds of their shifting bows. Unconsciously she swayed with them slightly, and soon a wonderful feeling of calm had washed every other thought out of her mind. Only wind and tree remained. She might fall asleep, and rest peacefully for once, she dared to think then, as the wind played about her like a lullaby...  
"Erashnak?"  
She was startled, but frowned even at her slight flinch at the sudden voicing of her name. This wasn't the time to think about calm and quiet and rest. This was the time to be thinking about staying alive. And that singular word served well as a cruel reminder.  
Suddenly Erashnak found out that she was lost. Where, she didn't know. Maybe she was lost in the forest, or lost in her life, or maybe she was lost in herself. It didn't really matter. That's the thing about being lost - you don't know where you are, and the only way you'll ever know is if someone tells you, and all you can do about it is wander around aimlessly until someone finds you, or until you find yourself. But no, she was lost with them all, and they with her. Where would they go? Further in the mountains? Mordor? Beyond? Either way, they were going in the wrong direction. Weren't they?  
And then she knew that she was, indeed, truly lost, with no idea where she was. It hadn't occurred to her before - she knew where the camp was, and how far away she was from it. She knew how to get back, and she knew how to find a different path to take her there if need be. But it wasn't so simple as that. The forest must have a name. They must be somewhere with a name. But she didn't know that name, and she didn't know how to find her way out of it. She was completely and utterly lost. But at the moment, she was also lost for words.  
Tagar let the moment of silence pass between them ungrudgingly, using the rare chance to look her daughter over, checking with a mother's keen eye's for any hint of a broken bone, an internal injury, a festering wound. What she found didn't surprise her. The girl sat hunched in a particular manner, one that appeared natural enough, but not natural for Erashnak. It was a revision to her posture, made unconsciously to give her comfort. It could mean a number of things - broken ribs, abdominal bruising, mild internal bleeding. Any of them could kill her, if she kept going on as she was. Sighing, Tagar tried to put on a smile for her only daughter, a mask to hide her own fears, but with failing she let the concern in her mind surface on her face. It would have to be soon. They could only trust to hope.  
Erashnak, we need to get back to the camp. The sun will rise soon, and you need to eat something, and then you should sleep as long as you may. Suddenly Tagar frowned, her voice accusing, hoping that the girl would grasp what she meant and do as she asked. "You really don't look well at all."  
But for all of her own heartache, Tagar didn't sound as bright or as strong as she normally did, and the tinge of grief on her voice and in her eyes served only to bleed her daughter's mood still further. Her mother's grief was her fault. Erashnak got up numbly, weaving a little as she waited for the dizziness of getting up too fast to wear away. Subdued, she let her mother's hands enfold her own, and felt her lips tremble as she looked down at the older orc, so much smaller, so pretty with her big eyes, like the sun, the dark marbled pattern of her skin, the black mass of her untamed hair.  
"Mother..." she began, but went no further. Her voice was so strange - softly toned, deep, quiet. It didn't sound right to reply so to such a strong voice. Her mother's voice was always strong, soft or not. Erashnak's had never seemed so weak. Not in her memory. But then, her mind didn't seem to be working so well now at all.  
Her shoulders shook with the rising need to open her mouth and just scream, scream until the hurt was drowned in the sound of it, scream until the endless motion of time would stop and turn back to a moment when she would be silent, and the world perfect as it would never be. But Erashnak didn't scream. She never screamed, nor let loose the blind emotions that welled up in her and sob, or laugh, or fume. Orcs didn't do those things, not like she would. Silent tears might run down her face, a smile might light her eyes. A shout might exclaim victory or pain. Nothing more. It would be too much to let loose at once, and safer in its ever deepening dam. She had never learned how to do anything more.  
Erashnak glanced up at the sky, trying to force down the fierce prickling that burned her eyes with a threatened flow of new tears. Her face was already tight with the shining paths of tears already shed, falling in silence as she stood and tried to tell herself that everything that had happened was someone else's fault, only to come back to the conclusion that everything was actually her fault, again and again. She wanted desperately to point and blame and rage to everyone around her that no, it was their fault, not hers, if only so that she might be able to breath again. As it was, each labored breath that she was forced to suck into her lungs unwillingly swelled her chest with a pain that felt as if a heavy weight was being carefully set over her heart, so that she would slowly suffocate under its crushing presence.  
In time, standing alone as the trees stood ghost-like about her in the gloom, she had finally begun to accept the fact that it was her. She alone was the sum of all their problems. It was her who plagued their noble family with ridicule. It was her who drove them away from the only home they had. And for some strange reason, a thread of fear and foretelling in the back of her mind, she knew it was her who would kill them all. Her skin prickled, the hair at the back of her neck standing on end.  
She clung to her mother like a little child as they began to walk back. They had far to go, and their conversations lingered over silence, each seeming to know the heart of the other and offering nothing more than wordless understanding. But that was not all that held their tongues. The forest itself seemed to command it, with an ethereal quality that intimidated them both. Are all forests like that? Erashnak wondered. It was such a strange feeling, calming, and yet it seemed to put Tagar on edge while Erashnak puzzled over its... rightness.  
Actually, she realized, Tagar seemed to be tense to the point of purest fear, though the emotions she conveyed through her touch were decidedly mixed - a battle of wills going on within her. Opening her mouth Erashnak breathed in deeper through her nose. There was a strange smell on the air. Becoming anxious at her own mother's fear, Erashnak suddenly forgot her woes and listened to the new sounds that had begun to plague her ears, almost too soft to be heard. They weren't animals. Their motions were slowed, masking their footsteps in stealth, almost circling. Like predators. But they didn't smell like predators of the wood. Erashnak had come across enough in the short time of their passage into the forest to know - that wasn't a pack of meat-seeking beasts, unless wolves had learned to walk on two feet. And they weren't orcs - their movement was too fluid.  
Teetering on the edge of panic once more, Erashnak ignored the pain of her gasping breath and clutched at her mother again. Fear flooded her veins as she began to replay every tale she had ever been told in the fearsome enclosure of her mind. What were they? Some fairytale beast, half man and half wolf, or half deer perhaps, or all three, demons rising up from water and mist to hunt the trespassers of their forest, Werewolves hungry for the hunt, Fairies searching for a new plaything to entertain them.  
Suddenly there was a buzzing in her ear, and Erashnak heaved all her weight against Tagar, sending them both to the ground as an arrow whistled past them before disappearing into the shadows once more.  
"Run!" Tagar screamed, pushing her daughter away. Erashnak stared at her in surprise and fear as the older orc hauled her to her feet and pushed her again. "Run! I'll follow right behind you!" she added, when she realized that Erashnak was going nowhere without her.  
Another arrow flew past, one that had only missed them by a inch, as if the bow that shot it had been jerked away when Erashnak stepped back in front of Tagar. Thoroughly panicked, Earshnak jumped away and didn't need the push her mother gave her to find a path and run for all she was worth. A coward, the sane part of her mind coursed, running away from your fears. But the Erashnak who had almost been impaled by an arrow couldn't even hear, the pound of her running feet and the beating of her heart ruled over all sound, sending all thoughts of stopping far, far away. More arrows flew, and several most certainly did not hit wood or earth. But a second set of footsteps had manifested to her right, and fear took her on through misery and hurt without end.  
Suddenly she realized that she should be happy. Those footsteps were her mother's, and soon they would both stop and embrace and all would be well again. But in her heart, and in that annoying bit of sanity in the back of her mind, she knew that those footsteps were not Tagar's. They were too quick, too soft, and too pursuing. Tagar would simply be running. This creature was trying to overtake her, and succeeding in its task.  
Everything within her grinded to a halt, crashing down into a pit of broken rubble. Her legs went on only because there was nothing left in her to stop them. The pieces came together, and the puzzle was beat against her again and again, knocking the wind out of her lungs as it overwhelmed her senses with pain. Her mother had fallen. She had stayed behind. The arrows had hit her, the ones that hadn't hit wood or earth, embedding their sharp heads in living flesh and bleeding out the life of all she had left.  
Her knees snapped again and she blundered about for a moment before grinding her teeth and running on, running through an endless path of agony that she hadn't let herself understand yet. she would come to terms with it after she collapsed, when consciousness came back and she lay half-dead on the earth. Then she would come to terms with all she had lost, and mourn all she would never have. But for now, she would run.  
And then the footsteps returned to her mind, mostly because they were ahead of her. Struck once more with fear, Erashnak stumbled left and right, trying to find a way to become lost in the forest. But her hunter was cunning and swift. The running footsteps curved around her, dimming until they were almost gone before coming back, running straight toward her, relentless, giving her no room to turn and run the other way. A strange voice called out as she neared hopelessly, and then Erashnak knew what hunted her.  
She knew few words of elvish, only what an elf might say as they slaughtered orcs or were slaughtered in turn. But the lilt she could guess anywhere, a fear embedded in her breeding. Suddenly he was there, and she was ready to make sure her death was not alone, instinct drawing her sword and driving her toward the attack. Orcs die only at a stand.  
The elf, more than surprised, dropped bow and arrow and crossed her blade with his own. Somewhat calmed by the sudden lack of motion, Erashnak ran the edge of her sword up his long knife, drawing his gaze after the sliding blade before flicking it back down with all of her fading, minuscule might. The elf leaped back with a cry, and Erashnak, already on edge, was thrown off.  
Her left knee was numb, she realized, as she started backward. The joint flexed and popped - in the wrong direction. Stumbling yet again she found herself sitting on the ground rather unceremoniously, a dull ache rising up in protest. Now staring up from her new, strange vantage point, it took a moment for shock to bleed away and let her move again. Despairing, she shoved the heels of her hands into her eye sockets to stop the tears. Now she would die, alone in a world that hated her, since the time of her birth. Alone. Opening her eyes, she watched the ground, waiting for the final blow, surprised at how easy it was just to give up on life.  
A moment passed, and then another. The elf stood back, not glancing at the long cut that ran the length of his hand, red drops gathering and falling to feed the earth, his eyes widened and his jaw dropped. Then, seeming to snap back to life, three strides took him to her side, kneeling down at once to see if she was hurt. Erashnak gave a yelp when the elf's face suddenly appeared before her own, full of concern, and within an instant she had grabbed her sword again and dug the hilt into his stomach, pitching forward to throw him down even as she landed on her own feet once more.  
Poised to strike, Erashnak gazed down at the tall figure sprawled out below her, but for some reason she hesitated. Perhaps it was the shock of seeing an elf, a creature who looked so much like her. He was taller, of course, and his hair golden, his eyes blue. An elf. The creature of utmost fear. And yet - so much like her. The only one who could answer so many questions... And yet the only one who struck fear in every chord of her body.  
And yet maybe again it was the look that had been in his eyes, the pure concern that had radiated from his every feature. Nothing evil was like that - was it? Was it his wide-eyed surprise, gazing up at her as if he couldn't possibly believe they had switched placed so fast? Or was it the bleeding gash that made her stop, frozen with sword raised. Red blood. The color of her blood. For some reason, it seemed to mean more than anything.  
And then, rising on his elbows as he watched her stare at him in surprise and confusion, he threw his head back and laughed, soft, quiet, but still laughter. Erashnak felt her eyes widen as her brows shot up. Laughter? Not orc laughter, low and menacing even in mirth, not balrog laughter, cruel and distant, enough to put fear in the heart of the bravest. It was like hearing laughter for the first time, loud and resonant it seemed, no matter how soft, and beautiful. How could she had thought that an elf's laugh would be so harsh and dark? It was the perfect inverse of everything painful and empty she had even gone through, the complete opposite of every spiteful word she had ever heard. A smile stretched her lips. She couldn't help it - his laughter was infectious.  
But as for the elf, he let his laughter fade away when she replied with her uncertain smile. At least it was a bit more encouraging a reply than her rather uncomforting trick with the sword hilt. But just as much as she couldn't have kept herself from smiling, he couldn't have stopped the laugh if she were leading a troll around by a chain. The sight of her tottering around on unsteady legs, sitting down with a thud, eyes wide as saucers in surprise, and lips trembling as if she were about to cry, reminded him so much of a little child taking its first steps that he couldn't have helped it at all when he crouched down to see if she was injured. And then his eyes must have been just as wide when she flipped him down on his own backside, switching places like magic. Though he wasn't quite sure, one would have thought that an elf-maiden would have been a bit more pleased with being rescued. And so, laughter was inevitable. Each thought the other was something they most certainly were not, and in the deepest, darkest corners of their minds, some foretelling imp was laughing for all he was worth at their foolishness. If it shown through their unconscious actions, there could have been no helping it, and perhaps the things that are thought about least are the things that are best to do.  
And so it was with Erashnak. Laughter was the last and final factor of this newest encounter that she could place on her list of tallies, pushing her away from 'kill and run for it' toward 'stay and watch'. Giving him a curious, if cautious sidelong glance, she felt her sword drop out of her hand and fall to the ground with a dull thud. The elf's gaze followed it, noting once more that it was an elvish blade, most certainly not the common weapon of an orc. To him it was yet another deciding element in the one-sided argument that she was a captive among them. Of course, he couldn't have known that the only reason she used the elf-sword was because she couldn't lift any weapon that a normal orc would use. Her family had found the sword and given it to her, so that she could defend herself at least a little.  
Standing up a bit cautiously himself, trying not to spook her again, the elf took a careful step forward. Then, suddenly, impulsively, Erashnak herself stepped up, hesitantly at best, but too lost in her marveling, mixed curiosity to conjure any lasting thought of true fear. One of his hands, the one she had cut, was held a little before him, not quite nursing the wound, but not being all too casual with it all the same. Erashnak was transfixed beyond words, staring so intently that she didn't even notice how close she had come. His hand was as pale as hers, but somewhat larger and longer fingered. She had never seen a hand like hers before, and held up her own before her as if to make sure what she was seeing was real. And it was - their hands were virtually the same.  
Cocking an eyebrow, the elf held up his own hand to see if he couldn't find out just what had snapped her into such a thoughtful state. All he saw was the bit of blood on his hand, which had mostly dried to a stiff brownish color already. Thoroughly confused, he watched her tentatively flex her fingers, her eyes darting from one hand to the other.  
It was primitive instinct that ruled once again. She couldn't have helped it if he'd had a mouth full of razor sharp teeth and a serrated sword held up for the swing. Swaying numbly forward, she set the heel of her palm against his and lay her hand out flat. She was right, his hand was bigger than hers, but exactly the same besides. Both had none of the normal callusing of a swordsman's hands - the skin was merely strong, tougher than more sheltered flesh. And his hand was warm, but not the unpleasant warm she was used to. It was a blood-warm, a warmth that heralds nothing more than life.  
She stood astonished, gazing at the first time her hand had ever fit against the hand of another. Always the hands of her people had been strangely concave, hard and large, and her hand had only been able to touch a few risen belts of muscle when both stretched their hands out flat.  
The elf, if possible, was even more amazed than Erashnak. Her sudden outreach was more than unexpected, and completely uncharacteristic of his kind (and hers as well, to tell the truth). She had seemed so afraid just a moment ago, and yet suddenly now she had her hand flat against his, looking as if she had never seen one before. And just as instinctively as she had done, the elf curled his fingers, their hands separating for a moment, almost as if shrinking away from her sudden touch, and then matched their fingertips. Both already surprised at each other and themselves, it was more than they could take when their skin touched again and sent a static shock through their hands. The elf flinched, blinking in wonder, but Erashnak nearly jumped out of her skin, stumbling backward a few steps before quickly examining her hand. But it only took a moment for her to fix her stare back on him, eyes a little less wide, and a bit calmer than he'd thought she would be.  
Seeing her sword on the ground, he stared for a moment before swiftly picking it up, careful to be as unthreatening as could be, and glanced at the runes on the blade before handing it to her hilt first. She too stared for a moment before slowly raising her hand and twisting her fingers around it. The corners of her mouth crooked up for a moment as she slid it back into her scabbard, and the elf noticed that she almost missed and had to look, using both hands to steady herself. Ignoring this for the time being and taking her suppressed smile as a good sign, he decided it was time to speak at last, thought he felt shaken to the core.  
"I am Haldir," he said, but got no further for the fact that she flinched at the words, pulling back again with no hint of recognition on her features.  
It was more than surprise. Not only did she not understand him, she was literally terrified of him, and every word he said. Perhaps she was taken as a baby, he thought, and raised like an orc. He nodded internally. That had to be it. She was raised as an orc for most of her life, and would need reminded about her true heritage before she could calm down and act it.  
In a state of denial, he would realize some time later. It was terrible logic, and yet it was all he had at the moment. And so, deciding that any elvish tongue would be a risk, it was Westron that he chose to use next.  
"I am Haldir," he repeated in the common tongue, hoping that his accent wouldn't set her off again, "Captain of the Guard."  
It was strange, how much she felt like a bird sitting on his finger, and he found himself trying to speak softly so that she wouldn't dart away. "Do you understand this speech?"  
Erashnak took half a step back, perplexed. All orcs of the higher circles were taught the common language. It was the only way they could speak to orcs of different creeds from their own, whose languages were many. But it had never even occurred to her that elves might know Westron as well. For some reason it made her feel even more threatened, finding out that elves weren't some strange creature beyond understanding. Being able to understand his words was more a shock than she could rightly bear. It took a moment for her to realize that he had told her his name. It seemed so wrong, for an elf just to stand up and say 'I am Haldir.' But, for the record, she couldn't think of what would have been better to say. And so, she hesitated greatly before forming her reply, the only reply she could think of.  
I am Erashnak, she said, unconsciously massaging her hand.  
Haldir stared at her for a moment. He hadn't truly been expecting to be given an orcish name, and it threw him for words until he remembered the role he had already assigned her in his mind. It was only understandable, that one raised among orcs would have an orcish name. But still...  
"You are not injured?" he probed, and she shook her head slowly. It took her a second to realize that this was a lie, but he had already gone on before she could have corrected herself, not that she would have.  
If you are fit enough to walk, then, we need to be moving on. We can meet up with my company by tomorrow, if we go on at a fair pace. I am sorry that our meeting must be so... unceremonious, understatement of the century, "but I fear we are still in danger here."  
Erashnak stared at him still, her lips pressed into a line as she bit them together anxiously. Everything was happening so fast! Going with the elf had never occurred to her - she needed to get back to camp and see what she could do. And yet, she knew in her heart, that all she would find would be bodies. She didn't let her mind linger over that for anything more than a second, focusing instead on what might become of her, alone. It was a much safer thought. But again and again, the only answer that included surviving began with following the elf... following Haldir.  
She nodded her head numbly, and after fixing her with a questioning, concerned gaze for a moment, Haldir turned and looked out over the forest, picking the best path to the destination set for them to regroup.  
Running after Erashnak hadn't been a spontaneous thing. It was because of her that they had staked out the orc camp in the first place instead of waiting to catch them all at the most convenient time. When she bolted, it was quickly decided that Haldir would follow while his company cleaned up. He sent them on without him to search for any more encampments before they regrouped, but he hadn't expected the girl to run so fast or so far. It would take quite a bit of walking to reach the outpost.  
This way, said Haldir, picking up his bow and replacing the arrow in his quiver as an afterthought, and slowly, hesitantly, she followed in his wake, feeling empty for all of the pain she was penning up inside her, but felt the curiosity in her bloom was she caught sight of the elf running a finger over his hand as well. To her thought it was a very strange, new world she had entered into - and if only she knew how much stranger it would become.  
  
~*~  
  
A/N #2: I think this is all veRy funny. Most people add in an orc attack when they nEed a bit of action. I add in an elf attack. I just can't stand it, lol. Anyway, this might be a good time to tell you that this Haldir is book-based. Sorry lasses, but I really didn't like the movie Version of him. He was much nIcer in the books, in my opinion, and that's what I'm looking for. I couldn't very well writE a fanfiction and not put in one of my favorite characters, noW could I? 


	3. Patience

Shades of Gray  
  
A/N: Wow, this is the best response I've ever had to a fanfiction, so I must be doing something right. And please don't give up on writing something just because I'm writing it. To me this story seems really delicate, and I have no doubt in my mind that I'll screw it up. Besides, I'd like to read someone else's views. On another note, my filly smeared me into a wall and now my knees look like tenderized meat, so all I could really do yesterday and today is sit and write. Hope you like it! Oh yes, and I'm sorry about the layout and the migrating or missing punctuation in these chapters, but I can't really solve the problem until I get Word fixed... But I'll do what I can. Sorry! (Thanks Valor...) And as for your question Aislynn, I'm not saying anything. -twiddles thumbs- I was undecided, but then I figured out what I wanted to do with the plot, so you'll just have to wait and see :). I think you'll find my way of connecting both worlds through Era is pretty unpredictable. I really didn't have a specific time picked out yet, though I had an idea, and I might have to change a few things later on. For all the time I spent pondering this fic, I really didn't do much planning... It's more of a 'get my mind off of school' fic than anything, so I'm really not studying too much. Besides, I don't think I remember any of the finer or even the less-than-fine details from any of the books except LOTR and The Hobbit, and then only because I read them during school when I had to either focus or listen to teachers drone... -sigh- I have a very bad memory. And as for orcish tendencies, Tolkien didn't seem to say too much except what the ones under the will of one dark lord or another did, so I'm trying to beef up the good things where I saw gaps or hints. Like you said, a lot of them were likely to forget how exactly their ancestors lived. If I get something wrong, which I definitely will sometime or another, like I said, I'm not really going for 'true to legend.' One of my goals was to make the orcs an actual race/civilization, not just the pawns of some big boss in Mordor. Which is exactly why I think a lot of people aren't going to like this story... -sigh- Glad you all do, though! -toddles away to write a new chapter-  
  
Chapter 3: Patience  
  
~*~  
  
There were many complications to such a simple act, Haldir later concluded. He couldn't let her walk behind for fear that she might try to bolt again, and he couldn't make her walk in front because she didn't know the way. And so they walked near abreast, Erashnak slinking back and away as he matched her pace, keeping her in full vision at the corner of his eye while still in the lead.  
But the more he thought of it, the less likely she seemed to try and run. Of course, she had no where to go, and no reason not to trust him, or so he thought. And he was certain that they had made a connection when she set her hand against his, a bridge toward trust, or at least acceptance and tolerance - so strange an occurrence couldn't have left nothing behind. Not to mention that she seemed to be tired, more weary than he could guess, and in no condition to run. All in all, she would probably have followed behind him much more comfortably and without incident.  
In fact, the more he continued to think about it, the more he realized that he just wanted her in sight. It could have been her rather peculiar appearance, or her even stranger actions. It might also have stemmed from her talented, if unconventional and rather painful (to him at least), use of her sword. But, for whatever reason, it simply felt like the right thing to do. Force your presence on a wild creature, and in time it will come to accept you as part of its life, perhaps even a friend, if done correctly. And so he treated Erashnak, who acted the part, though again and again he thought of children sneaking glances at powerful elven lords and ladies, trying to stare at the strange, ethereal characters without being noticed.  
It felt like leading about a wild horse who was just being handled for the first time, full of fearful, suspecting, jittery tendencies. She seemed calm and quite enough at times, and then only an elf could have sensed the tenseness that radiated from her very skin. But at other times she would flinch at the slightest movement or sound. All things considered, she was completely on edge for more than half the day.  
But slowly, as the day grew warmer and she grew more and more tired, Erashnak began to relax. Haldir gave her a kind smile, briefly wondering if it was a smile of relief or encouragement, but very glad that she had finally calmed down. Without thinking the orc felt her lips curve up slightly, drowsily, and the elf marveled at how much such a simple act had improved her strange, ragged appearance.  
By now Erashnak was beyond thinking that the elf was going to harm her in any way, though still not certain of his purposes. She hadn't put Haldir and the attack on her and her mother's life together yet, and wasn't about to for quite a long time. No, she didn't think of death or heartache, not yet. Instead she began gazing at the foliage around her, while sneaking equally inspecting glances at her escort.  
She had never thought to truly meet an elf before, and though she hadn't known what she was expecting, this certainly wasn't it. The cruel, murderous image that was embedded in her mind was not what her eyes saw. Haldir was quick and silent in all he did, graceful without attempt. He seemed to fit together with the forest like the most essential piece of a vast puzzle, and yet, as they passed, it seemed as if they were simply being permitted to walk through a wonderful place and admire, fitting in only because they wanted to. It was the most... right... feeling she had ever experienced.  
The silence that had stretched between them seemed strongly pleasant, once Erashnak had lost the intensity of her fear and apprehension. Of course, there had not been many words between them yet, and so silence wasn't all that strange a notion to begin with, and they talked just as little throughout their journey. All was quiet most of the time, save for the voicing of a direction from Haldir, or a sharp intake of breath or a sigh from Erashnak. All things considered, the day passed rather quickly, and night would soon fall.  
The orc had been weaving as she walked for quite some time now, but as the sun finally began to wane toward the horizon Haldir noticed her stumble on nothing several times. When he was forced to hold an arm out to keep her from falling, the elf quickly decided that they would have to stop for the night, though it was against his wishes. He would have preferred to go on until they reached the outpost the next day, but Erashnak was obviously in no state to walk anywhere farther than the nearest good campsite, if that.  
"We'll stop here for the night, and move on in the morning," said Haldir, as he glanced up at the sturdy branches of a well-sheltered tree. Erashnak stared at the elf for a moment, summoning her thoughts to the realm of consciousness.  
"Here?" she asked, her words slow and slurred with tire, catching the elf by surprise. He hadn't expected her to say anything, as she seemed taken to do.  
"I don't see why not. This tree has very strong branches, and it won't be hard to climb."  
The surprised terror on Erashnak's face was enough to tell him that he hadn't calmed her fears at all.  
"Sleep - in a tree?" Erashnak gazed up at the tall structure, letting a shiver run down her spine. She had climbed sheer stone walls that could make a mountain goat nauseous, and she had slept on ledges that would have made any mortal sick. But seeing the slender branches reach out above her and trying to imagine sleeping on them was more than she could take. She would fall out for sure, she realized, taking a step back as if the tree might reach down and grab her.  
"It is the safest place," Haldir said, angling his shoulders at the mixture of curiosity and annoyance that had entered his mind. There was nothing more for it - sleeping in a tree was the only way they could be guaranteed safety. "Are you afraid of heights?" he asked as an afterthought, that strange, curious feeling winning again.  
"Heights?" she blinked, now chafing her arms, obviously not understanding the concept. All there was in Moria was heights and depths. It wasn't really thought about.  
"Are you afraid to climb up so high," Haldir elaborated, with a gesture toward the branches.  
Erashnak blinked again and shook her head. "No, I am not afraid of heights. But those branches... they are so thin!" she sighed, feeling as if her brain had gone numb, speaking half in a moan, exasperated and hungry and tired and in quite a deal of pain.  
Haldir stared at his newest companion, taking in how slow and drowsy her words were formed, and how she seemed to hang on her bones as if she were half-dead. Then he glanced at the tree again and sighed as well. He couldn't afford to let her fall out of a tree when they had done so much to rescue her, and the probable risk that she might fall and injure herself outweighed the safety bought by the tree's height.  
"I was planning on going on through the night anyway. Sleep on the ground, and I'll keep watch in the tree." He watched her eyes calm with relief and sighed, yet again, a vague smile in his eyes. "But first the water skin needs to be refilled, and you need to eat something."  
Erashnak locked eyes with him suddenly, caught off guard once again. She had been startled when the elf had offered her a drink from his own water skin the first time, but by the end of the day it had almost seemed normal. But the idea of providing food was another thing entirely. She could live another day without food. She couldn't have lived another day without water. And the fact that he was so willing to stay up all night and keep watch while she slept was just too much to handle. Elves weren't supposed to go out of their way to help orcs. It was the complete inverse of the very laws of the universe! Erashnak felt herself shiver, stepping back again. But Haldir seemed not to notice it, striding off into the trees once more, and Erashnak felt she had no choice but to follow. She certainly wasn't staying there alone.  
It didn't take long before the elf found a small grove among the taller trees where stouter apple trees had found a place to take root. It was just such a thing that he had been hoping to find. Erashnak was obviously not going to make it through hunting and cooking before she fell asleep, and Haldir didn't have any food on him at all. The pack he carried was small, and in it was nothing more than a blanket, a cloak, some rope, tools to fix clothing and weapons as well as a bit of the most basic first aid. It could hang on his back beside quiver and bow and seem almost as if it wasn't there. But the larger pack in which he'd carried other supplies, food and more water, had been shrugged off when he and his comrades had staked out the orc encampment, and he hadn't grabbed it when he was forced to race after Erashnak, never having imagined that she could take them so far off track. A packet of lembas would have seemed worth many times its weight in gold at the moment, but the elvish waybread crumbled too easily to be carried in this small pack.  
Haldir quickly spotted the tree with the best fruit, and gently set his hand against the rough bark of its trunk, closing his eyes for a moment. Erashnak stared in silence, wondering what he was doing, but then he was sitting on one of the sturdy branches before she could blink twice. She watched, still in awe, as the elf picked an apple and glanced it over before deciding it was fit to eat.  
"If you wish, I can throw some down to you, if you stand right there. It would be much faster than me carrying them down," he said, nodding toward the ground below him, though he didn't expect her to move. It was more an invitation than anything, hoping that she would decide to stop acting like some doe being led about by a hunter. But Erashnak's mind, in its weary state, had reverted to it normal mode, where orders were listened to without a second thought.  
Erashnak had moved before she had quite registered the 'throw' part of the sentence, but when Haldir let the fruit drop she lifted her hands with a start and suddenly found herself holding an apple. It was still rather green, but a lighter shade and blushed with reddish-pink. But it was the first apple she had ever seen, and she turned it around in her hands uselessly, enjoying the smooth texture of its surface but having no idea what to do with it.  
Suddenly another apple was falling toward her, and she just barely caught it, one-handed. She smiled at her small accomplishment, still having no idea what she was catching. But Haldir smiled as well, surprised but encouraged by her sudden decision to participate, and she had to set the apples down quickly when three more came falling toward her, followed soon after by another four. Two fell on the ground, one rolling out of her arms as she tried to hold them all and the other missing her entirely. And as she tried to reach for it, yet around started falling out of her arms and she tried to catch it one-handed again, but it slipped, and she tried again, and it rolled, and by the time she had tried to catch it a third time she was bent over double and found her hand on the ground, just as all the rest of the apples rolled out of her arms as well.  
Setting the rest of the way down on her knees Erashnak couldn't help but laugh, near hysterically, feeling tears well up in her eyes at the hilarity of the situation. But truthfully, she was much too weary to laugh, and the sound seemed loud and feral. But Haldir was glad she did, though the somewhat insane sound of it was a bit frightening, because he was hardly containing his own laughter and would have soon failed to do so. Deciding that her laughter gave him leave to do as much, he could hardly climb out of the tree for all of it. If ever in his life he had thought that one day he'd watch an elf maiden dressed as an orc juggle an armful of apples (quite horribly), he would have worried for his own sanity. But knowing the game was more or less (mostly more) his fault, the elf was quick to scoop up the apples and dust one off, handing it to her.  
Erashnak stared at the apple and at Haldir with an eyebrow raised, her eyes full of questioning. Finally, when he only gazed back in surprise, she said, "What, exactly, is this thing?"  
Haldir almost choked on his laughter, shaking his head She had no idea what he'd been throwing at her all this time. It was more than hard to imagine.  
"This," he said, holding up a smooth, two-toned fruit, "is an apple. A type of fruit - you eat it," he ended at last when she continued to fix him with her uncomprehending gaze. He watched her glance back at the apple again before giving a lopsided smile and taking a bite out of one. The other eyebrow came up as well as she watched him, but with only a slight hesitation she too took a bite out of an apple.  
The fruit was so sweet she almost coughed it up, but commanded her throat to swallow and tried to picture the taste again. It was like nothing she had ever tried before, utterly... delicious. Ignoring the angered churn of her stomach as it complained about the sweetness it had never come in contact with before, she took another bite, and was able to savor it. She was surprised to find that apples, or at least this one, were full of juice, sun warmed and of a strange texture, not soft but not quite hard or crunchy. Smiling Erashnak confirmed the thought in her mind - apples were amazing.  
A little surprised by her reaction, Haldir smiled in turn, wondering what strange thoughts were going through her head. But with one glance at the bleary expression in her eyes, he held out his hand to help her up so that they could be on their way.  
Erashnak jumped when his hand appeared in front of her, but found herself taking it none-the-less, watching with a shocked expression as he pulled her up as if she were made of feathers, still not able to comprehend what was going on. Then suddenly she crowded away, horrified that she had dropped her guard so much so quickly. Being tired was no excuse to act so comfortable around an elf, and she chafed her hand as if he had burned her. Then she watched his expression fall, landing somewhere around confusion, and, more surprisingly, hurt.  
He had been hoping that she had finally decided to be companionable, or at least unafraid of him, but it appeared that all of his experiments to make her calm down had solved nothing. They hadn't exactly explained what to do in such a strange situation while he was being trained for the Guard, but he had been certain that if he tried to show her that she need not be afraid as well as he could think to, that she would do so. 'You just need to be patient,' said that little annoying voice in the back of his head. And, of course, it was right. Years of learning to fear the elves couldn't be dropped so quickly, he came to realize, though the thought was barely half-formed in his mind.  
Glancing down at the ground for a moment, Erashnak took another bite of the apple, sighing. She had given up to thirst, and she had given up to hunger. She could at least try to give up to her anxious, tense feelings and let him have a break from her jittery suspicions. If she was going to sleep while he was around, then she might as well give up completely. And there was no possible way that she could have kept herself awake. The amusement of catching apples might have revived her somewhat, but she was still tired enough to sleep for days. It would be better for both of them, she realized, as she lingered over the emotionally drained feeling that ate at the pit of her stomach.  
But, for a moment, some fleeting thought shot through her head, telling her that when she woke up, more alert and no longer feeling as if her mind had been turned to water and drained out her ears, she would be thinking much differently again. But in her weariness she couldn't get a firm grasp on the warning thought, and it was gone.  
As they walked back in silence, Haldir could sense the moment when she sighed internally and let her tense features fall. It was almost as if she'd been emptied of everything all of a sudden, now only the husk of a creature walking beside him. And then, before too long, she was gazing ahead of her, eating another apple, calm and quiet as any elf might be. Haldir inclined his head with a sarcastic smile, and she looked away, her lips curving up on their own accord.  
Before long they were back at the tree in which Haldir had proposed they sleep, but instead he walked over to a more sheltered place between two large, outstretched roots of a far older tree. Taking off his pack he found the blanket he kept with him and slung it over a large, upthrust root.  
"The dew falls heavy so close to the earth," he said, nodding toward the blanket with a faint grin. "I'll refill the water skin; I heard a little stream not far away. I won't be gone long," he added, not exactly sure if that would sight a good or bad thing to her.  
Erashnak nodded blearily and watched him walk away, standing in a strange, lazy position until she snapped to awareness once more and found herself thinking of nothing but sleep. Feeling literally numbed with weariness she untied her leather armor and set it against the tree with hardly a thought, pulling off her boots as well and flexing her toes gladly as she unbuckled the belt that held her sword. Suddenly feeling very light as she stood there with only a tunic and leggings on, she found herself grabbing the blanket, whirling it around herself and plopping to the ground, nearly curled up in a ball.  
Now completely covered with the blanket, she could smell Haldir all around her, and it seemed a little amusing and a little frightening all the same. She hadn't thought that the blanket might smell like him, but of course it was only natural, and after a moment she decided that it wasn't unpleasant, not the sweaty, musty smell of orc, but lighter, hardly a presence. Never-the-less she made herself a breathing hole in her little cocoon and peered out into the growing darkness, feeling so strongly empty and lost that she felt sick. Like a wolf, captured and put in a cage, giving up to a life so much less than that which it once had. But, then again, the children of that first captured wolf were the hounds and lapdogs of today, and they relished the company of man and woman alike. Perhaps, in time. Her mind wandered, wondering what exactly she was thinking about with all of these wolves and dogs and thoughts of just needing time.  
Haldir was soon back, and setting the water skin down he glanced at Erashnak and grinned. She looked perfectly lump-like, curled up under the blanket so tightly. He saw her eyes looking out at him from a little opening in the folds, and lifted an eyebrow at her. But she only blinked at him before closing her eyes and huddling even closer into the tree.  
Shaking his head Haldir took up his post in the opposite tree. "Sleep well," he said, still grinning at the sight of the little Erashnak lump that was set against the roots, almost like a rock. She shifted under the blanket, but said nothing, more than likely already in the deepest sleep he had ever seen. And, for some unknown reason, his smile faded to a line, and then fell even further to a frown. She may have given up the intensity of her fear, for it drained her beyond its worth, but now she felt like the empty shell of a being that might blow away in the wind, and her knew that fragility wasn't exactly the feeling that Erashnak favored most. The morning might come very difficult once more.  
Patience,' chastised his mind yet again. But even still he couldn't quell the sudden, nagging fears that were flooding his mind. It was elves that she feared, and it was to the elves that he was leading her. And they didn't have much time.  
  
~*~  
  
A/N: -sigh- So I take it she's tired? -beats herself over the head w/ the keyboard- Well... I don't know. I guess this chapter is ok... But I really don't like all of this 'furthering the plot' stuff, and I'm having trouble deciding what Erashnak should already know and what she shouldn't. The wolf and dog thing I attribute to orcs knowing about hunting hounds, so they would laugh at lapdogs and the fact that they all came from wolves. -sigh- I don't know... Hopefully I'll get to another good plot chapter by chapter five... I'll be writing as much as I can very quickly - I leave Friday to visit a relative in another state and then school starts of Monday... -sigh again- Life has turned against me. 


	4. Child of Moria

Shades of Gray  
  
A/N #1: This is another one of those strange chapters where I can't decide if I love it or don't really like it. I don't know. It was going to be longer, expanding on a conversation after Haldir found out that she was an orc, but I'm near asleep as it is so I just said the heck with it - I'll put it in some other chapter. #5 should be pretty good... -sigh-  
  
lol, I already got the dialogue speech from Valor, who, by the way, missed several of my mistakes (shame on you... and don't bother calling me this time, it bores me too much... j/k) But you have to remember, if you were an orc and in denial about the death of your entire family, would you feel very much like talking to an elf, the first one you've ever met, when he suddenly pops up in front of you? Oh well, you'll see from the events in this chapter that there will be a lot of expansion and conversation from now on... And as for language, I'm taking Jean M. Auel's way out... It's less confusing for people than constant translations and a lot less work for me :). This fic is going to be more fluff than action I fear, though I do have a few tricks up my sleeves... -evil cackle inserted here- And thank you Ula! But maybe you should have read some more before you started swelling my head for me... Chapter 3 was not exactly the best of my literary achievements... (ha! achievements! ha!) But I promise to get better!  
  
Romance? Why, whatever gave you that idea? -eerie music and thunder in the background- (oh yes, and my knees are going to be fine... as soon as I can bend them...)  
  
Chapter 4: Child of Moria  
  
~*~  
  
Erashnak went completely still, holding her breath and taking extreme pains not to squeeze her eyelids and simply let them stay shut as they would normally be. Then she heard, and felt, the subtle movement again. Her eyes flew open, but all she could see for a moment was dark woven fabric, little hints of sunshine glowing between the fibers. Then her eyes focused and she saw an opening in the folds. Shifting her head just slightly she looked through.  
The blurry image before her pierced her sleep-clouded mind at once, and she lay frozen again for a moment, then twitched with a muffled yelp of fear. A strange, pallid, calm figure with almost gray blue eyes and pale flaxen hair was standing not ten paces away, a surprised look on his face even as he chuckled at her expression with a mischievous grin that couldn't be helped.  
"I was just coming to wake you," he said, lifting an eyebrow.  
Haldir had been watching Erashnak for most of the night, only looking away to admire the slender sickle of the new moon or the subtle dance of the stars between the outstretched leaves above them. She wasn't all that interesting as she slept, mostly still save for the necessary movements needed to be sure she wouldn't be overly stiff in the morning. But during the day she had been quite interesting enough to make up for it during the night, the stream of thoughts in his head still raging on just as fiercely by the morning. Which had come some hours ago.  
He had let her sleep as long as he could, and was more than surprised when she woke up as soon as he started to walk toward her. She had seemed so deep in sleep that he had thought twice about the dangers of trying to wake her up, imagining the look of horror on her face when she would open her eyes and see him standing so close, and was certain he didn't want to see it, or have her shrink away for the rest of the morning - or longer. But it looked as if things had found a way to mix again.  
Once she'd regained herself, remembering Haldir and the events that led up to her being there, the annoyance quickly built up. "You... you..." Erashnak half-breathed, half-hissed, a snort added in for good measure, conjuring up everything she could remember about elves in her weak insult, mingling in every curse she could think of. Then she blinked, realizing that this weak outburst had been the first of its kind in many, many years. She could feel the gates of the emotional dam inside her bow under stain, and immediately shrank away from it. Best don fear and be terrified now - it was much safer, without meaning.  
"I didn't understand a word you just said, if you were even speaking to me," Haldir replied with a pleasant smile, though his eyes seemed clouded and his jaw was set, seeming to ignore her annoyed glare. "But if you don't mind, milady, I was thinking that perhaps you should get up before the sun sets again."  
She realized, with a start, that she had been speaking orcish. No wonder he seemed so uncomfortable - it had to feel just the same as listening to him speak elvish, and she wondered if he was angry. The expression on his face could have meant many things, and she felt herself huddle backward against her spine reflexively.  
Erashnak stared at him for a moment, wide-eyed, before glancing up at the sun. It wasn't anywhere near evening, or even noon. It couldn't even be the ninth hour yet. Fixing a cautiously sour look on her face and setting her own jaw, she turned to glare at him once more only to find herself faced with a sniggering smirk.  
"So much for the almighty perfection of the elves," she said, hardly able to stop herself from giving him the satisfaction of a smile. Obviously he had taken it upon himself to decide that their conflicts and their reservations were well done and over with, though she couldn't help but feel that she had given him 'permission.' But all she had to do was conjure in her mind that strange conflict of emotions he had painted on his face to make herself regret the fact. He might seem kind enough, she decided, but his bad side was not a side that she wished to see.  
With a triumphant grin the elf stood up and walked over to the opposite tree, where he'd lain his pack. Shaking her head disbelievingly Erashnak uncoiled herself from the blanket and stood up with a stretch. She was still weary to the bone, but a night's sleep had hidden it under an outer layer of rested contentment. At least she would be able to go on for a couple of hours before she started to weave about half-dead again. She must have lost more blood than she thought.  
She turned to watch Haldir, and suddenly realized that she felt almost perfectly comfortable in his presence now, even if she did fear to awake his anger. Anyone would have, of course, the elf could be very grim when he wished to be, and that wasn't the point. In her world, a blind world where scent and touch were the basis of all things, he was already known enough to her to be a member of her family. The anxious fear was gone. The caution lingered only because the words 'elf' and 'evil' had been beat together in her head far too many times for her to forget it. That strange difference only remained because she felt like a stranger to his very race. Curse that dratted blanket!  
Of course, the only positions that were yet to be filled in her family were sister, husband, son and daughter... grandchildren... And father, now... and mother. And brother too, no doubt... In fact, there was probably an endless list of places now empty in the fabric of what had once been her life.  
No! She wouldn't think of that now. Not yet. She needed time, time to sort everything out and decide just what she was going to do now. In a strange new world of trees and light, an elf the only living person she knew. It seemed... utterly hopeless.  
Suddenly Haldir was there again, holding out the water skin, and cocking an eyebrow at her lost, bewildered look. She took it, gladly if hesitant, and rinsed out her mouth before taking a drink. Then, as an afterthought, she pored some out in her hand and wiped off the blood on her face as best she could. Handing the skin back at arm's length she noticed that the elf's hand was wrapped in a strip of cloth, and wondered if he really had stayed up all night, but the thought was cut short by her own large yawn.  
"I see you haven't come out of such a deep sleep very refreshed," Haldir mused, handing her an apple. "I thought as much. I believe you've lost quite a bit of blood, and I dare say you have broken ribs. At this pace we wouldn't make it to the outpost until tomorrow night. Or the next night," he added when she yawned again.  
He received a strange, muffled noise in reply.  
Smiling, he continued. "I hadn't realized just how far you've taken us off track. You run fast for as tired as you seem," and at that he received another snort. Not quite sure if this reply was good or not, he made no comment on it. "Now I find that we are very close to a smaller village, and it will only take us a few hours to walk there. Then we can find some willing horse and cut our journey's time in half."  
Erashnak only stared, not understanding half of what he had just said, and having a keen notion that it really didn't matter what she thought anyway. Haldir gave her another lopsided grin, looking like a cat who'd just caught a bird, and she shook her head again, taking a bite out of the apple. So much for the terror of the elves as well, she thought, and nearly smiled.  
  
~*~  
  
Such a small camp hardly took a minute to break, and they were walking again before Erashnak had even come fully awake once more. But Haldir seemed even more purposeful than before, taking full advantage of her current energy, and set a rather brisk pace. The orc followed him near abreast, which surprised him, when he had been forced to match her pace the day before, wondering why they had changed directions, but having a very anxious idea that it had something to do with an elven village. But after over an hour of silence, the now alert Erashnak simply couldn't contain herself any longer, remembering all of the questions she had asked herself, and realizing that she was currently walking with the first person she had ever met who had the answers.  
Curiosity is a very bold and powerful emotion.  
"What is the name of this forest?" she asked, and Haldir blinked at her for a moment, startled that she, Erashnak, had broken the silence yet again.  
"It is called Lothlorien," he said once he had regained his wits, "or Lorien, if you rather a shorter name." But he was rather perplexed - he'd never met an elf who needed to be told the name of the Golden Wood before. Of course, they were hardly passed the forest eaves, but still.  
"Lothlorien..." she sounded out, and Haldir wondered why he hadn't noticed the peculiar chords of her accent, or how deep and pleasant her voice was. "It's a beautiful name," she added somewhat later, almost hesitantly.  
"The name must at least try to express the beauty of the place," said the elf, smiling at her sudden interest in... acting alive.  
"I suppose so..." she bit her lip again, obviously thinking.  
"Erashnak?"  
The orc nearly jumped - it was the first time he had used her name, and hearing it said by an elf seemed even more wrong than the fact that she was talking to one. But he went on none-the-less.  
"You do know... you do... do you have an elvish name?" Haldir chose at last, not quite knowing if he was simply asking or staking his hope on a word.  
"I am Erashnak," she answered, lifting her shoulders in a slight shrug, half apologizing and half questioning.  
"You must have an elvish name," said Haldir, wondering if he was saying that Erashnak couldn't possibly be her real name, or that she needed to find an elvish name to use instead.  
Erashnak grew silent and almost grave for a time, and stared ahead of her as if seeing some other place entirely. Haldir glanced at her, becoming nervous of her near-blank expression, wondering if he had offended her. But then she spoke, her voice sounding far away.  
"Atalante. Call me Atalante."  
"Atalante?" he asked in surprise, then gained a strange, curious note to his voice. "Do you know what that means?" He felt like saying, 'that is not a name,' but simply couldn't. She hadn't spoken the word from among the few elven syllables that were locked within the stores of her memory - even he could tell, the very tone of her words spoke of things not known, half- remembered thoughts long-faded like mortal dreams with the morn.  
Erashnak glanced at him with her strange eyes and made another muffled sound in her throat before looking away, and he wondered if she had meant yes or no. But she seemed to be asking for no definition from him, and the elvish 'name' she chose was far better than the orchish name she wore. Who knew, perhaps Atalante really was her name, and it was some faded memory that had led her to say it. And so Erashnak became Atalante to the elvish world she had always feared.  
There was a moment when neither spoke, lost within their own thoughts and the quiet sounds of the wood. But Haldir had questions, and he had answers as well, but knew he could never believe the two fit together until she told him out-right. And so he soon took advantage of her seemingly improved outlook on him, which was, to his mind, most likely due to lack of true energy than actual acceptance.  
"I must know... You are a very unique person, to speak the truth, and I simply cannot place you among any house that I know of. Tell me, do you remember your folk, and when were you imprisoned? I must know, for when this news has been taken to the Lady, we will then be able to take you back to your people if you wish it. But I simply must know."  
Erashnak locked their gazes for a moment, trying to sense what sort of question he was asking her, deciding that she could do no more than state what seemed obvious to her alone, clenching her fists with the common determination to stand or fall with pride.  
"You cannot take be back to my kin. There is no house left in which I might dwell, and no folk left to dwell there with me. But I do not know what you mean by 'imprisoned,'" though she had the eerie feeling that she could guess.  
"When were you taken by the orcs? When did you become a slave of Moria?" said Haldir after a moment, the thought that she had lost house and family slow to sink into the mind of one who had lost so little of such value.  
Erashnak's eyebrows knit, and a frown spread across her features. "I was born there," she said, slowly, as if speaking to someone who was touched in the wits. But her voice was strangely soft as the slow realization that he hadn't known she was an orc sunk into her mind, flowering out into her every sense like a drop of blood in water. "I am a child of Moria."  
Haldir suddenly stopped, and she had to walk back several steps to face him again, having nowhere else to go, though staying decidedly out of reach, and seeming nervous enough to shake the very earth. But her last sentence had been spoken so strongly, so confidently, as if she had decided split-second to face some terrible wrath. The elf inclined his head, and looked at her. He looked closely, feeling his own eyebrows knit with the will needed so pause his thoughts of how she simply didn't remember...born to enslaved elves...or a stolen baby...years of torture...and just LOOK.  
And what he saw, strangely, did not surprise him. In her strange eyes was the confidence and pride of her words, as well as the fear of them, and some unnamable other thing that seemed to leech her eyes even paler. Pain, he saw, loss, and struggle. But the pain was not all physical, but emotional, a pain of the heart. The loss was not her own loss, the loss of her own gains, but the loss of things that had once defined who she was and why she had bothered to live. The struggle might have been her own, but it was shared, and though often unrewarded, it was not what he would have thought to see. But most of all, what he saw was that her eyes, however elf- like they might seem, were not the eyes of an elf at all.  
"You... are an orc," stated Haldir with the hesitation of one who has only begun to witness the dawning of understanding within him. "Moria was your home."  
"No," said Erashnak, so soft he could hardly hear her, "Moria was where I, and my family, once lived. It was never my home, and it never shall be. I can't go back, not ever again. That way is barred to me now."  
A moment passed, and then another, and then all time bled together to twist a second into an hour and a thousand years into a minute, time flowing and ebbing freely about them as they stood in silence, taking no notice of it at all. And then, just as time seemed to halt and double and slide to an endless sea of Right Now, Haldir smiled.  
"I must say, you are the most beautiful orc I have ever met."  
Erashnak, not quite sure of what had happened, took a moment to decide whether she should shrink away or laugh at what she knew was a lie. And so she did both.  
The elf watched for a moment, a smile still lingering on his lips, until she fell silent once more. Something had changed, they both noticed at once. Something great and powerful had just changed in the vast fabric of life. Erashnak was an orc. Haldir was an elf. But for once in the great turning of the years, these words seemed to matter not a thing, nothing but a lingering memory of an old and crude way of life. This new place knew nothing of orcs or elves, and they smiled at it, wondering why it had seemed like such a big deal such a short time ago, and each knowing in their heart that, outside their newer, wiser world, those old torments still raged. But that was alright for the moment, too.  
And so, for the first time in all the long years of this Middle- earth, an elf and an orc were walking side-by-side, a strange and sudden friendship beginning to bind two pieces of one puzzle together with a bond of unfathomable strength, so much stronger than the cruel blade that had driven the rift between them so long ago.  
  
~*~  
  
A/N: *ahem*too many small relatives influencing me*ahem* I love reviews, give me reviews, Then I'll be happy and write more too, For a great big chapter and a sequel - maybe two, Won't you say you will review... 


	5. A Matter of Trust

Shades of Gray  
  
A/N #1: Wow... This chapter really grew as I was writing it. I believe I'll just cut it in half and make two chapters out of it. And guess what? Now that they're talking, they won't shut up. -sigh-  
  
DRUIDGIRL, you make me think too much. If my brain shrivels up into a raisin, I'm blaming you and sending you all of my homework. Gah... Lemme think. No, her mother was an orc, and her father was an orc, so she is technically one too. But she isn't the same... kind of like a subspecies or a hybrid of the two. Like... when she was conceived, for whatever reason, the Valar I guess stepped in and undid most of the damage that Morgoth inflicted on the elves that he captured all those years ago. As for all the rest, I'm afraid to say anymore because it will give away the plot :). And then my plot bunnies will become very angry and chew my leg off again. Sorry! But it is amusing though, that I would see this review just after writing about Haldir's idea of orcish elves and elvish orcs... I guess even he doesn't believe that she's a full orc. Which I guess is true... But she might as well be. And then again, she wrote herself into not talking about Haldir as an elf. You'll see.  
  
And as for the rest of you, flattery will get you everywhere. *cough*  
  
Chapter 5: A Matter of Trust  
  
AKA: Anatomy of the beginning of an elvish/orcish friendship -OR- Do you really want her to trust you with her words?  
  
~*~  
  
"I believe you should stay here for now, and out of sight," said Haldir, shifting his eyes over Erashnak's orcish raiment. "Raising everyone's attentions will not do us any good. I shouldn't be too long..."  
Erashnak gave a slow nod, her eyes flickering past the elf to stare at the snatches of white she could see, dancing on the other side of a particularly thick belt of trees whose leaves had caught a wind that she couldn't feel. Farther beyond that she thought she could see distant patches of the mellower green tones of forest clearings as they yawned up at the buttery afternoon sunlight. It felt as if she was standing in the evening when morning was no more than a hundred yards away.  
Giving her a quizzical look Haldir hesitated for a moment, anxious about leaving the orc alone so close to an elven village, before turning around and starting toward the light with purposeful strides. It was a smaller settlement to be sure, with none of the mysterious beauty of Caras Galadhon. A farming village - supplier of meat and grains and vegetables both to itself, and to the larger cities that lie further in the deep wood, where farming land was scarce. It was more like the dwellings of other elven lands, with few talans save for those of the Guard, and many more ground houses. But it was not without its beauty, and a mortal would think it much a tribute to the crafts of the Eldar. But then, few have seen the city where Galadriel dwells. It was a fortunate thing - he shouldn't have any trouble finding a horse at all.  
Blinking for a moment at the sudden light as he emerged from the trees, he suppressed the desire to glance back at the wood to make certain that she was out of sight. But Erashnak was cunning, he had learned as much, and he knew that she would remain unseen. So it had been when they had come across an outpost. The orc had melted into the forest as if she were but a breathing piece of shadow and earth while he confronted his brother in arms, gathering what news he could and giving as little as he could get away with.  
With a smile and a nod to the mingling elves around him Haldir set his course toward the stables that the warden had spoken of, forcing his steps to a leisurely pace as he wove about the beautiful streets and the buildings about them. It may not have been the village proper, but the area seemed to be somewhat of a market, full of colors with a faint drift of music bleeding into the soft speech of the elven crowd. After many a turn and polite nod, a long, low, calmly ornate building came into view near the proper entrance of the land. It was a stable, no doubt, exactly where the guard had said it would be. In the distance he could see the stable master, deep in the work of brushing a fine tawny colt to a glow, and his strides became more purposeful.  
"Haldir?"  
The elf stopped, nearly spinning around as he heard his name being called out behind him. A woman just slightly shorter than himself and the exact image of his mother was hurrying toward him with graceful steps, her long halo of silver-gold hair caught in the wind. She stooped a bit as if to get a better look at him, and then continued on with the most beautiful smile he had seen since...  
He almost frowned, thinking that it should be his mother's smile that he was thinking of, but it was most definitely not. No, the large, warm, easily attained smile that was the gift of almost every member of his family was not what was in his mind. It was the subtle, elusive smile of Erashnak, a smile that seemed to shift the worlds together in a confusion of her own emotions. But surely he was just caught up in his latest task - what he might laugh to call the taming of an orcish elf. Or something along those lines.  
"Haldir! It IS you!" she exclaimed, and he couldn't help but laugh at her excitement at seeing him. "I knew it was you from the moment you walked into the village, strutting about as if you were nothing more than a farmer's son. I haven't seen you since before you became a Captain, do you realize? That is far too long! Whatever brings you here?"  
She quickly dropped her basket as she caught him in a warm embrace, and Haldir let her infectious smile spread on as he held her out at arm's length and lifted an eyebrow at her mischievous blue gaze.  
"I might ask the same of you, Luinhuinë. What force on this earth could drive you from the deep wood, cousin?"  
Luinhuinë let her smile fall from its full strength to a softer, fond grin, clasping his hands in her own. "You know that we make our summer home here, Haldir. The deep wood might be wonderful in every way, but one must crave for freer air at least once in a while! It is fresh here, and so bright, not so dark and mysterious and the inner cities. But the weather is harsher, what with all of this wind, and we do take to the forest again when the winter comes to stay. You are lucky that we are still here, for all of this fair weather."  
"Lucky indeed," he chuckled, as yet another gust of cool wind blew a lock of hair into her face, which she hastily swept away.  
"But that still does not answer as to why you are here, my elusive little cousin," she said, folding her arms in less-than-mock demand.  
Haldir looked over his cousin, the eldest daughter of his mother's sister and so very dear to his heart. They had nearly grown up together, they and their siblings, a right pack of little terrors, and some of them still upholding the name. He trusted her nearly as much as he trusted himself, he decided, being sure to imitate her expression.  
"I was sidetracked on a mission, and I need to borrow a horse and be away," he said, giving a mild inclination of regret and hoping that she would let the subject drop and not go on with her shrewd little wiles. But it was not to be.  
"Haldir, I dare say you could travel nearly as swift as a horse and arrive not far behind, even should you be going the full way back to Caras Galadhon. What is the hurry to do with, then?"  
Haldir squared his shoulders with a disapproving glare set on his face, though it did nothing to quench the sparkle of mischief in her eyes. "You know that I simply cannot lie to you, do you not?" he asked, ignoring her exaggerations.  
"Yes," Luinhuinë said, shifting her weight to one leg with arms still crossed in that unbelievably stubborn stance that all women seemed to posses.  
"Then you would help me with a secret, would you not?" said Haldir, beginning to see the many positive possibilities of the situation. Yes, he was very lucky. Very lucky indeed.  
"And what would that be...," she drew out, the look on her face spelling out very clearly that she was already well bought.  
Haldir smiled. "You see, the mission on which I was sidetracked involved a strange movement of orcs. We staked out their encampment, only to find that there was an elf among them."  
Luinhuinë's eyes widened with terror and delight. Haldir hesitated, amazed at how easy it was to forget that they weren't a feral band of elflings anymore.  
"And?" she prodded, a fain light in her keen eyes.  
"And so we had to be cautious. But as it turned out, she became separated in the attack, and I was forced to follow her. A swift little thing, her, fleet as a forest doe. But she is injured and worn, beyond much that I have seen before. Without a horse it would take us perhaps three days to cross a distance that should take little more than one. Though she seems to be better off at the moment, I doubt it very much that she will last much longer," said Haldir, careful to avoid anything that might press the matter beyond his will. He had a very realistic idea about how easily his cousin's lips spoke.  
"Oh," said Luinhuinë with sympathy, suddenly the lady of her house and fond playmate no longer. "Then I dare suppose she is in a horrid state. We'll take her to the house, and see her well cared for, and you with a horse if you won't stay the night. Such a dreadful thing to happen! You should have said something at once... I'll send a few handmaidens with the orders for fresh clothing and a bath... And our supper must be to impress. What else must we do?"  
"Perhaps not to impress - I doubt that she could handle anything too rich or too sweet as of yet. Even an apple seemed to be a bit much for her, and I dare say that you could serve onions and grit and she would be well enough impressed."  
"I think not," she said, lifting her eyebrows at such a notion. "But I will see if the menu might be calmed a bit. And you can expect no grit whatsoever in my house, whether you be there or not, Haldir. Sometimes I think you tease too much."  
Haldir ignored his cousin's insults yet again and gave her a warm embrace, kissing her brow. "You are the most wonderful, Luinhuinë. My luck has never faired so well."  
Luinhuinë gave a sly grin, eyeing her cousin like an older sister. "Yes, I know," she said, turning with a wave of her hand as they walked back toward the market and her patiently waiting handmaidens, deep in conversation. Her excitement was harder to ignore, though Haldir was soon to be having second thoughts. But it was his cousin's house, one of the safest places to introduce Erashnak to elvish life. Everything would be fine...  
He could only hope that his good fortune would hold out.  
  
~*~  
  
"You can come out now, Erashnak," said Haldir, glancing around as if blind. He simply couldn't believe she could hide so well, and suddenly found himself wondering if she was still there.  
Then came a slight movement to his left, so close he almost jumped, and then she was there, eyebrows raised.  
"I can't believe you," he said, "you can make yourself blend in as if the forest has been your home from the dawn of all time. How you became so wickedly cunning I hesitate to ask."  
Erashnak clasped her hands behind her back, nearly laughing - at him, he realized. There is that feral look again, thought Haldir, praying to the Valar that all of these women would never gang up on him, though he wouldn't mind watching if they attacked another.  
"So now we are leaving again, I suppose," said Erashnak, inclining her head. At least she seemed to trust him with her words now.  
"No," said Haldir, and she stared at him with widened eyes once more.  
"Please don't look at me as if I've told you that the sky is orange, Erashnak. Or black, rather, with that scowl," he smiled, and Erashnak thought it was one of the most evil smiles she had ever seen, though it didn't strike as much fear in her as she had thought it would.  
"No, I was surprised to meet my cousin here, a fine and wonderful woman, and she has insisted that we at least stay for a meal, and that she be allowed to have her handmaidens attend to you. Her eldest son is an apprentice healer, at that. And I fear that we will both fair better once you are clean and... more properly dressed."  
"Clean..." Erashnak let the word roll off of her tongue, a look far from pleased adorning her features.  
"Yes, I understand the implications as well, but I swear that you will feel much better afterward. And you will be more presentable to Galadriel, not to mention more presentable to every living elf and more."  
"My life's very goal," she said, her lips curving in her own evil grin. But it was gone soon after, her stomach already churning with anxiousness. Her. In an elven city. "I've never even seen an elf before. How can you expect me to just walk into a city full of them?"  
"And what am I, a dwarf?" he said, crossing his arms. "And it isn't a city, it's a village, and you will only be in it for a moment until we can get you to Luinhuinë's house. There won't be so many people there, and it will give you a chance to become used to a number of elves before we reach the city. You will be fine," he added then, frowning at her bleak expression.  
"I still don't know why I should trust you," she said slowly, and he nearly shivered at the intensity she could convey in a single glance.  
"Perhaps because I am the only one left for you to trust anymore... You may think you do not have a choice in the matter, and it is true that you really don't, in the end. But if you don't trust me, then trust that if you were going to be killed, you would already be rotting. Elves do not make prisoners of orcs."  
Erashnak glared, but inclined her head, allowing for him to go on.  
"And as for that, no hissing, and no snorting, and absolutely no orchish. You must be especially careful of that. They think you are an elf who had been stolen as a child."  
"They think I am an elf?" she said, a look of pure shock and disbelief written on her features.  
"You do look very much like one, you know," said Haldir, growing nervous at the expression on her face.  
"I know what I look like," she snapped, "but no one has ever thought of me as an elf before... I always just looked like one to my people. I can't even imagine..."  
"Yet again, it seems that I am forgotten. But if you agree to the terms, then put on this cloak and be sure that it covers you well. The last thing we need is to have an elf dressed like an orc walk through a village so close to the outskirts," said Haldir, handing her a long cloak when she gave an unfeeling nod.  
Erashnak swept the cloak over her shoulders and set the clasp below her throat, lifting the hood to mask her face. And once again she was surrounded by the scent of Haldir, though it seemed more comforting than frightening now. He was right - he was the only one left for her to trust. She had no choice.  
"Perfectly mysterious," he sighed, knowing that there would soon be just as many questions asked about the hooded figure as there would have been about Erashnak without a cloak. "Follow closely - and remember our agreement."  
Erashnak wrapped the loose end of the cloak around herself in reply, assuring that it would not fall open. Well, everyone will know she's a woman, thought Haldir, massaging his temples for a moment before striking off toward the light once more.  
The forest melted away, and sunlight broke over Erashnak in warmth and beauty. It didn't take but a moment for at least a dozen elves to come into view, and at first she crowded closer to the relative familiarity of Haldir, feeling like an ant caught between the hammer and the anvil. But then the bright colors of the market and the soothing voices of elvish instruments came to her senses, and Haldir was forced to take her by the arm to make her keep walking and not veer.  
"I thought you were afraid of the elves?" he grinned, enjoying the sparkle in her strange eyes and the entranced smile on her lips as she elbowed him angrily in the ribs when she couldn't pull away.  
But the struggle was soon forgotten by Erashnak as she stared in awe, taking in the sight and smell of the village as if it were a fine wine. It was alien, but intoxicating, and she felt lost for where her eyes should turn first. Lingering scents that she couldn't name drifted about the calm, ageless beauty around her, and she wondered what that color was called that that man was wearing, and what was that instrument whose voice was floating in the breeze like the wind's own melody, and how did that woman make her hair twist that way in such an ornate braid...  
"Era?" whispered Haldir, tugging on her arm a bit less than gently. "You have to keep walking. It isn't far. And perhaps when you look slightly more elf-like we might take a walk through the market if you wish."  
Erashnak jumped to attention, staring at him with the most surprised look he had ever seen. Had he just used her nickname, the name that all of her family had used since she was a baby? How had he...  
"But we have to get to the house, first," he said, his smile growing lopsided with sarcasm. "Then perhaps we can make a deal."  
"Y-yes," said Erashnak, her voice wavering for a moment. Best just walk and think later...  
She let Haldir lead her past the thick of the village, at war with herself as to whether she should snatch back her arm or just let him keep it. Deciding that it wasn't worth seeing that look on his face again, she let him drag her where he would, her every motion a bit overly subdued. But that didn't stop her from looking.  
"Haldir!" exclaimed a very pleased voice, and Erashnak snapped her eyes toward the slender figure who was coming toward them. "You took so long I was getting worried..."  
Haldir ignored her concern, turning to Erashnak.  
"This is my cousin Luinhuinë, partner in mischief since we were hardly old enough to walk. She has been kind enough to insist, command, and insist again that we take advantage of the courtesies of her house. She isn't as evil as she appears," he smiled, and Erashnak could hardly help but return the expression, though she really didn't feel like it at the moment. "Luinhuinë, this is Atalante."  
"You are welcome here, Atalante, though I fear your escort may have to go and try to find shelter elsewhere. Perhaps the stables, or a nice pigsty... I hear that the byres are very comfortable as well..."  
Obviously she had said something amusing, because Haldir laughed and Luinhuinë's warm smile became even larger. But as for Erashnak, they might as well have been speaking elvish, which they were not. Haldir must have explained at least that much, she sighed. Only bits and pieces of their conversation made sense to her, but she thought she could catch the general drift and decided to act on it. Luinhuinë may have been an elf, but at her present attitude she was rather appealing.  
"Thank you for your kindness," she replied, and Haldir's eyebrows shot up at the kindness of her own words. This he hadn't expected. "But do not be too cruel to Haldir - he should be shown the same kindness that he has shown me. Perhaps you have a cellar that he could find room in..."  
This time it was Luinhuinë who laughed, and Haldir's face was so full of mock abhorrence (and less-than-mock annoyance) that she had to look down at the ground for a moment to keep herself from laughing as well. It was a dangerous situation, these two women getting along so well and setting the score against him, thought Haldir.  
"From now on I will not believe a single word about fear that comes out of your mouth... or any word, for that matter," he whispered in her ear, and she was forced to suppress a snort.  
"Your cousin is very much like you, and I am not a complete dotard," she tried to snap, a hard thing to do as a whisper, especially while fighting off the infectious laughter of Luinhuinë. They were very much alike indeed, and even she was surprised that she had been caught up in their fun, even if she had been a bit more serious. It is a strange world...  
"Come, before our insults attract too much attention. This way," said Luinhuinë, and Haldir gave Erashnak a strangely playful glare before he turned them to follow her. They act like children together, Erashnak smiled. Like brother and sister. Obviously the years did not lie as heavily over them as she had thought.  
Soon they found themselves before a grand and beautiful house, not as large as their house in the deep wood, or so said Luinhuinë. But still, to Erashnak, it was a very large building. It was not in a tree, mallorns being scarce so close to the borders, but a ground house that seemed as if it had grown up from the earth, encompassing tree and stream with beauty and grace. Not as grand as more official houses, said Haldir, but it seemed grand enough.  
Luinhuinë's house was home to much of her extensive family, some of whom stayed in the winter and some of whom did not. There were several others living there that were not related, but close friends of the family. But there was no doubt that Luinhuinë was the lady of the house, and one could tell even by the simple way that she accepted shouts of greeting as they neared.  
"I fear my husband is away," said Luinhuinë with an apologetic smile, "but I am certain that he would extend his fondest greetings to you and a good word to take back to your house and kin as well."  
"And when he returns, you will be sure to give him my thanks," said Haldir. "It is really too bad that he isn't here. I think you would have liked him, Atalante. Another sly, terrible friend of mine."  
Erashnak sighed, shaking her head more to clear it out that at Haldir. The two cousins might seem as if they were just another part of her new view of the world, but they were not, she remembered suddenly, realizing that Haldir too must live in a grand, large house of kin and friends. Perhaps he was even the lord of it, for all she knew. Obviously they were both of the higher circles among elves. And that dreadful, empty, anxious feeling was beginning to gnaw at her stomach again. This wasn't her place. It wasn't where she belonged. But, she found herself realizing, one day soon it just might have to become her place. She didn't have many choices left to her.  
Luinhuinë was swift to pull Erashnak away from her gawking at the beauty of the house they had entered, and the orc hardly kept herself from starting away with a yelp. The elf might not have been a far cry from Haldir, but Erashnak was by no way even that comfortable around her new acquaintance. But she forced herself to calm, remembering their deal.  
Soon she found herself in a room made entirely of large squares of smoothed stone all around, the air moist with steam and the scent of sweet flowers. It lowered Erashnak's tense awareness at once, and she felt lost in her battle to regain it from the soft atmosphere about her.  
Luinhuinë unclasped her cloak and threw it in a pile to be washed. Her eyebrows lifted and her eyes widened for a minute as if she hadn't actually believed that Erashnak would be dressed as an orc. Erashnak, startled by the sudden movement, simply stared back. Suddenly the elf seemed to snap back to reality and pointed to a basin of steaming water and a pile of thick cloths and towels.  
"Strip all of those filthy clothes off, and see if you can't get off some of that grime before we have you soak in a bath for a while and see what we can do about your hair."  
Erashnak stared at her for a minute, not quit understanding what was going on, and pointedly ignoring the word 'we' for the time being. But the fragrance of the air was too calming for her not to obey, and the orc did as she was told. Luinhuinë had left for a moment, leaving Erashnak alone to tackle the dark smudges of dirt and clots of blood that adorned her pale skin, being careful to avoid cuts and bruises with a gentle touch.  
By the time that Luinhuinë returned, the water in the basin was near black.  
"Good," she said, her warm smile annoyingly infectious. Suddenly Erashnak knew what the elf had meant by 'we,' as several elf-maids followed her into the room. Erashnak had never felt so timid and exposed. "Into the bath," said the elf cheerfully, and so it was into a large tub of hot water for the orc.  
Erashnak grimaced with discomfort at first - there was no such thing as hot water in Moria, though the water might have seemed only warm to the elves. But after a time her skin grew used to it, and it slowly began feeling more and more pleasant. The handmaidens soon attacked her skin and her hair with sweet-smelling soap, but she was feeling too drowsy in the warmth to mind all that very much, vaguely wondering what was wrong with her mind at the moment.  
Luinhuinë stood back, glancing at the pile of orcish clothing with little less than disdain before she turned her eye to Erashnak once more. Now having a good reason to watch her and not be considered rude by anyone but herself, she found her eyes unconsciously evaluating her cousin's new charge.  
She was short, strangely so, shorter than any of the elves that she was used to. Her eyes could hardly be level with Haldir's chin, and he himself was not exactly an alarmingly tall person. But her hips and shoulders were quite broad - a human would think hers a body very desirable, well-formed for child birth, but only indecision lit in the elf's mind. She had never met an elf who was anything more or less than tall and thin, though she certainly wasn't well fed. Where stronger curves were made by stronger bones, the softer curves of a woman's body were just not there. And she was appalled to see the overwhelming discoloration of bruises that covered the girl's skin, darkening it to a wretched appearance that was almost beyond her, traced with the thin, or not so thin, lines of angry red cuts. She puzzled over this for a moment, never having seen the effects of true poverty so close, and understanding none of it.  
But overall, she wasn't entirely unpleasant to the eye. Her own eyes were an astonishing pale shade of watery gray-blue, like nothing she'd ever seen before in all the long years of her life. One could not tell where white ended and color began, it just flowered in from the black that centers every eye, a blue like deep water. Like looking down into the depths of a limestone spring at the vast caverns below that could never truly be seen. They were the kind of eyes that bore so much more than the tiny surface window could show. Deep, endless wells. There was something feral about her eyes, and about her every feature, and something powerful.  
Her lips had a pleasant curve of a beautiful shade, full enough to be pretty. Her hair was a color too strange and vague to be considered unbeautiful. For all of her particularities, she seemed of a normal structure, not deformed or permanently marred in any truly noticeable or terrible way, with skin an alluring shade, not so pale as it was dark, or perhaps not so dark as it was pale. Definitely not the most beautiful creature ever born, thought Luinhuinë, but in a world dominated by fair beauty, it was the exotic who caught the men's eyes. Young, ambitious men most often, the ones who always seek the different, the ones who draw gazes. And the one she knew as Atalante was definitely this - exotic was the only true word that could be used to describe her. A very rare, exotic thing indeed.  
"I'll be right back with something fitting for you to wear," said Luinhuinë. "It might take a while to find something that suits you. Do a good job with her hair, mind. I simply can't wait to see what it looks like clean and dry."  
With that she was gone, and Erashnak sighed. They must have thought that she had nits or something along those lines, for they had been scrubbing her scalp through several layers of skin and she was hanging by the last thread of her patience and her sanity. It seemed very much like the entire world had gone upside down, and she had a good mind to have a word with Haldir whenever they decided to free her from their clutches.  
  
~*~  
  
"The orcs grow bolder everyday," said the elf who was sitting at Haldir's right. "And stranger in their deeds," he added then.  
"Yes," said the elf on his left, "it makes one wonder just what they think sometimes... though I doubt very much that I would like to know."  
"Indeed," said Haldir, though his mind was not on the word. Actually, he would quite like to know what they thought about and why they acted as they did... no doubt a stem from the idea that Erashnak had planted in his mind - perhaps they underestimated the orcs in many things.  
"It makes me wonder why the girl was with them. Has she told you? She didn't seem so relived as she did cautious, even fearful. Do you think she might be touched in the wits?" asked another elf, sitting somewhere toward the right.  
"No, I believe, is the answer to both questions. Her wits are perhaps a bit too sharp, and she hasn't told me much of anything. She was raised by the orcs, though. I know as much, and no more."  
It was true - Haldir did know that she was raised by the orcs. As a daughter, of course, not a slave, but they most certainly didn't need to know about that.  
"I suppose -" began the elf on the left, but he was cut short by the arrival of Luinhuinë, and Haldir sighed at his rescue. "Greetings, milady," the other elf ended instead, and she smiled.  
"Greetings in turn, I assure you. But perhaps you would wish to see the subject of your conversation once more before supper? Come here, Atalante! You don't have to be shy," she added in the common tongue.  
Shy, thought the orc in disdain as she looked at herself in Luinhuinë's fine silver mirror. The creature who was gazing back at her was so frightfully elf-like that she didn't quite know what to do with herself. Sighing, she turned away and walked toward the elf's voice.  
She could smell the lingering fragrance of flowers on her skin as it mingled with her own familiar scent. But now the scent of her mother, of her family, and even of Haldir, was gone. She felt cut off from her own word, placed in this clean, pretty world as suddenly as she could blink, even before the pain of losing her old world had worn away. And now she was a 'subject,' a thing for people to look at with extremes of before and after. She felt so empty she wondered if she would ever be full again.  
As she turned into the light Haldir felt his eyebrows raise and knew that those of his company had raised too. The strange hooded creature that they had known, and the orcish elf, or elfish orc, that he had known, was gone. It was an elf maiden who stood before them, strange and drawing to the eye, inviting stares of evaluation, though most definitely not intentionally.  
She was clad in a modest dress, pure white with no decoration, its long sleeves falling in flared waves. Even the neckline was simple and clean-cut. But Erashnak had felt uncomfortable even this exposed, though Luinhuinë had wondered why. The sleeves cupped her shoulders well enough, and the free-forming dress was more modest in neckline and waist than most elves would have preferred. But her hips and shoulders did fill it out nicely.  
Erashnak had been surprised that there was only one skirt to the dress, being used to many more layers in her clothing. It felt like she was wearing nothing more than one of those sheet-things wrapped around her. In her opinion it wasn't much better than walking about naked, though Luinhuinë had laughed at this. But she had to admit, she felt so light and... well... pretty, that she couldn't help but smile.  
Her hair had been braided intricately in elvish fashion, a bit more ornate than he was used to, Haldir noticed, and it flowed down her back in a cascade of pale, vague darknesses and lights. It wasn't wavy or straight like most elvish hair, but almost straight. He hadn't noticed that her hair was so many different lengths, full of the cuts and pulls of the years, and the ends curled ever so slightly, with a bit of fine texture. It caught the sunlight as it poured through the open balcony doors and took up a dull golden sheen. Very strange, just like the rest of her.  
Erashnak stood straight, with her shoulders tilted back even as her hands were clasped before her, as Luinhuinë had told her to. In this stance Haldir could see the outline of the bottom of her ribcage against the fabric of her dress, and several ribs as well. And there was a pointed boniness about her hips and shoulders too, he noticed, and a gaunt darkness about her cheeks, but he returned her smile without letting himself linger on it for too long. Her skin was naturally dark, and yet pale at the same time. It was strange, yes, but alluring. He feared she would find herself too strange and mysterious for her own good.  
Luinhuinë said that the supper would be served very shortly, and the men got up to join her at the table. Haldir was a bit wary to approach Erashnak's wicked, strained smile, but found himself walking toward her anyway.  
"I'm going to kill you," she breathed between her teeth, "very slowly."  
Haldir laughed, ignoring her scowl. "Whatever for?"  
"For not being forced to go through that yourself, you murderous elf!"  
Haldir chuckled again. "No, but I suppose you would have much rather sat here and defended yourself, of course? But don't even bother to tell me that you don't feel better. I can see the opposite on your face."  
"Really," she nearly hissed. "They scraped off so much clotted blood that I turned the water pink, Haldir. And might I add that bruises and scrubbing do not go well together in any atmosphere? And I won't be able to touch my hair for a week, the scalp is so sore."  
"You're exaggerating. But I'm glad you feel that you can come and complain to me," he smirked.  
"I have to complain to someone," she murmured, and thought more than once about kicking him in the shin.  
"But you do feel better?"  
"Yes......." she sighed at his prodding. "It does feel nice to be able to walk about without a cloak on, and I do think I like this smell..."  
Haldir laughed, and she stared at him indignantly.  
"I was being serious."  
"And that, Era, was why it was so amusing."  
Erashnak's eyes widened again, now certain that he had used her nickname. She hadn't known that they were so - close. But then again, he was the only elf who knew that she was not. It had only seemed natural when he had learned this, but now she realized that it was not natural at all. She had put a great amount of trust in him as soon as she told him her name. In fact, he was the only living being who even knew her real name. And though he might take full advantage of it at times, it was obvious that he trusted her.  
'Why?' asked that little voice in her mind, and she shook her head that she didn't know the answer.  
  
~*~  
  
A/N #2: And there you have it, my fun with adjectives and metaphors chapter. You like? 


	6. Burning Bridges

Shades of Gray  
  
A/N #1: Yes, I'm still here. Can you believe this chapter took me over three weeks to write? I was in New York for a while, and then school started, and labor day weekend had me shopping and visiting with family, and I've been so busy as of late training my filly that I've only been able to write a paragraph or two at a time. And I'm still not happy with it - probably because of the fact. Oh well, I give you chapter six, and I promise to make chapter seven better.  
  
Chapter 6: Burning Bridges  
  
~*~  
  
Among the many strange occurrences now stored in Erashnak's memory, that first time sitting down to supper was the strangest yet. None could sit until the lady sat, and then, to the unobserving eye, all custom was done and over with. But from where Erashnak sat beside Haldir, much more was apparent to the eye. A flurry of protocol from manner of speaking to the use of cutlery (which was an entirely new prospect altogether) quickly began building up.  
Haldir had positioned himself strategically so that Erashnak could not only steal glances at him, but at Luinhuinë, and not seem rude in doing so. But the orc was even more cunning than he could imagine. Her eyes darted so quickly that even he could hardly notice, and she found perfect reasons to give one person or another a lasting glance without being uncouth in the least. She selected the perfect portions of every dish that she tried so that she would be in time with the next dish's consumption by some other person, and if he hadn't been watching so closely (and not nearly as well as Erashnak) he would have thought her born to the life of an elven princess.  
As the courses wore down - Erashnak being careful to take the most appropriate amounts of each so that even she, with her unused constitution, could grace through them all - the orc even found it in her to carry on a true conversation with Luinhuinë's eldest son, Airerosion.  
"Mother has told me that you are sorely injured, though if these were not of her own words I would hardly believe it. She says that you might be bleeding internally, and that you most likely have broken ribs. Have you lost a lot of blood?" he asked, pressing his fingertips together before him.  
"Undoubtably," said Erashnak, "And I've lost more since I came here. But as for the broken ribs, I've had them before, and internal bleeding as well, though I am not bleeding inside at the moment," she smiled, and Haldir wondered just how real and how strained that it was.  
"You have bled internally before?" asked Airerosion, the light in his eyes growing eager with the thirst for knowledge that his apprentice mind seemed to have without bounds.  
"Yes. Once I got an iron boot to the gut when I was being generally foolish in -" she stopped in time to save herself from elaboration at Haldir's glare. She swallowed, looking away for a moment. "It felt like falling into a warm bath, I think. Like dieing and being born at the same time, cold and sweltering at once. At least, that was how it felt to me."  
"You remember being born?" Airerosion said, his voice incredulous. Erashnak turned back again to stare at the two elves' amazed expressions and smiled besides herself.  
"Of course not. No one remembers being born. That is just what I think it might be like."  
"I wouldn't know," said Airerosion, cocking an eyebrow.  
"I thought that you are an apprentice healer," stated Erashnak, curving her pitch at the end of the sentence so that it might be considered a question.  
"I am, but it is the knowledge of midwives that you speak of."  
"Midwives?" said Erashnak, as if trying out a new word.  
"Yes, Atalante. They are women who assist in birth," said Haldir, the very note in which he spoke her elvish 'name' confirming that he knew she had almost launched into a speech about her family. It would all be well and good if she could keep this speech under control, that is, until Airerosion heard that she was supposedly taken by the orcs as a baby. But the moment of silence that ensued his words was all that was needed for his cousin's son to begin again.  
"How were you cured?" he spoke as if many things were flashing through his mind.  
"I... don't remember," said Erashnak after a moment, furrowing her brow. "I remember shivering so hard that it hurt, and gasping, feeling as if my lungs had burst and I was going to suffocate. Then the world went completely black, not the false black where there is no light, but the true black where there is nothing. And then I woke up... and I was well."  
Airerosion and Haldir stared at her with widened eyes and raised brows, Airerosion's mind wheeling with thoughts of the Valar's divine interference, while Haldir slowly let yet another flood of questions about the orcs flow through his mind. He would have to ask her, someday.  
But Airerosion was not waiting for someday. Erashnak would be leaving soon, and he had many questions to ask. Some were answered easily enough, and others pressed them both to uneasiness. At last Luinhuinë announced an end to the meal, and Erashnak was not slow to retire to a balcony as soon as the words were uttered. Haldir followed, catching a drift of singing from the market in the distance, and found himself smiling once more.  
  
~*~  
  
The second deal of the day was made easily enough. Erashnak would start acting like an elf in every way, paying attention to what she said and the manner in which she said it. Her actions would reflect her predicament, she would not defend the orcs in any way, and the first agreement would apply double-fold. In return Haldir would nudge Luinhuinë into taking a walk about the village. It would only take one slip, he warned her, and the elves would know that she was not what she seemed. She would be shunned from them, or worse, falling either way unto a fate of death.  
To this Erashnak had agreed with a sigh. She had no doubt that she would be forced to do so anyway, as he was like to use this as one side of a threat just as well as one side of a deal, and she might as well take something from it. She couldn't remember what she herself had gained from their first agreement, and it made her feel extremely manipulated until he reminded her that she could leave if she wished, and wander alone in the wood until she died or was killed.  
Erashnak had now become well aware of Haldir's ability to snap her in half if he so desired, shown to her quite well when she stepped on the hem of her dress and nearly tripped with a curse - an orcish curse. He had stopped her from falling, yes, but did not release the grip that he had on her wrist, twisting it upward until she was forced to look at him. She had never seen anyone more furious since she was a little girl, and had quailed immediately, annoyed at the tears that began to sting her eyes as she blinked them away.  
"I'm sorry!" she stammered as close to a whisper as she could come without whimpering. "I won't do it again! I swear! You're hurting me." This, of course, was a lie bred of shock. He was not squeezing her arm hardly at all, only enough to let her know that he could easily break her wrist without a thought, but she knew that she was going nowhere until he let go. Again she felt manipulated, lost in a world she didn't know, and yet a world not so very different from her own as it might seem.  
Haldir let go of her arm, and she stared at her wrist, trying to seem amazed that the red marks his fingers had created wore away and didn't bruise. In more than the back of her mind she had known they wouldn't, but had hoped that they would. She would have loved to make him feel guilty. He didn't really want to hurt her.  
"Erashnak," he said, inclining his head with an apologetic set to the thin line of his lips. "I am sorry as well. But you must realize how much danger you are in. I am not trying to be controlling, I am simply setting the laws that you must live by if you are to dwell among the elves. I knew it would not be easy, but you make it very hard, Era. No elf among all that is good would ever speak orcish, no matter where they were raised."  
She was glaring at him with a chilling, blank face, her chin pressed downward as she looked at him from behind her lashes. Sighing his annoyance as well as his sympathy, he gently pushed up her chin to make her look at him properly.  
"This is the way it must be, or you must leave. Do you not see that I am trying to help you?"  
Erashnak couldn't force her lips up from a frown, and she turned her face away to let them tremble with the effort. "I am not an elf," she said at last, sucking in a deep breath.  
Haldir was taken aback by how cold and harsh her voice had become. "I know," he said. "And that is why I must try my best to protect you."  
The orc sighed, wishing she had someone she could throw her arms around and cry. She glanced at Haldir, and choked on her brimming tears. No. She wiped them away and stood for a moment, taking deep breaths, filling her lungs to their fullest and holding her breath for a moment before letting it out slowly. And just as slowly she felt calm being restored to her, closing her eyes to bask in its cool embrace. She would be fine. She could do this. Haldir was right. It was the only way. Why fear and hate the elves? They were so much the same, and yet... so different. But so were men, and there had been marriages between the two before, so much she knew. But men and elves were much different from elves and orcs.  
She opened her eyes then, giving him a bleak smile which he returned with a much warmer expression. Suddenly she realized that he had taken hold of her hand as if to get her attention, no doubt worrying about her strange 'orcish doings' again. She stretched her fingers, feeling how firm and yet how gentle his grasp still was, and he let go at once.  
"Perhaps, then, we should corner Luinhuinë and see about a bit of a stroll before we must leave, do you think?" he asked, and she wondered how he could shift between emotions so quickly.  
"Yes," she said, "I think I would like that very much."  
  
~*~  
  
Westron was a more commonly known language so close to the outskirts of the wood, but still it was not used unless necessary, and many still did not know it. Erashnak was greatly subdued by the constant, soft hum of elvish around her. It felt like a torment of words that had come to attack her mind, like the buzz of mosquitoes in her ear. An annoyance if a small threat, and challenging to ignore.  
Haldir had spent the greater part of their conversations at supper translating what elves were saying to her, and then translating her replies in turn. Fortunately most of the elves had decided that it wasn't worth the trouble to try and carry on a worthless conversation with her and let them be. But by the time that Haldir had convinced Luinhuinë that a tour of the village was required, Erashnak was following at a distance, paying no attention at all, her hands loosely clasped as she played with her fingers, eyes downcast to deter any attempt to confront her with their bombardment of elvish talk.  
Haldir sighed and tugged on a lock of her strange-colored hair with a brotherly playfulness that she couldn't ignore, thoughts of her true family embracing her mind with less sorrow than she had thought would come. A ghost of a smile appeared on her lips, and it was enough for him to decide that she was fine, ushering her to the door. Luinhuinë met them at the bottom of the stairs, where she was speaking with a maidservant.  
"Come now," she said, "I have a bit of shopping to do that I wasn't given time to finish, what with your arrival and all, and I would like to be back before nightfall, if you don't mind."  
"Shall we then?" said Haldir, offering an arm to his cousin even as he continued to gesture with the other, already deep in one conversation or another.  
Erashnak watched them, walking nearly five paces away, as far away as she dared to be lest she raise Haldir's anger again. He had already proceeded to explain to her why it would be unseemly for the two of them to walk about alone - with all of the people who knew him and his relatives, at best they would be considered illicit lovers. Though this had caused her to press their agreement with a snort, she didn't linger on the subject. At the current state of events she wasn't expected to touch or even pay attention to anyone, and that could only be considered a perk. As it was, Haldir's warnings had given her a very wicked and dangerous view of elves... Physical contact was beyond consideration.  
But soon she forgot her misgivings and began to become curious and excited once more as the strange colors and smells of the market came to her again, giving her little wisps of the unknown on every fierce gust of the wind. When they truly did reach the market, Haldir quickly let go of his cousin as she hurried about her own business and latched his arm around the orc's as she began to veer yet again.  
As Luinhuinë gave orders to her handmaidens at least two menservants, the pair followed her about, Haldir swiftly becoming absorbed in his conversations with Erashnak. She had never spoken so much to him or any other as she did then, bursting with another question before he had even fully answered the one before, and she had never spoken so conversationally. The cold edge in her voice was gone even as her eyes became bright, and the sarcasm that normally laced her voice lost its sting, seeming no more than amusing when it was even present. It was childish, yes, but that was half of the point.  
When they had ceased their roaming for a moment, Luinhuinë inspecting melons with one of her servants, Erashnak took swift advantage of the chance to stare and pored over how the harp in that shop made its sound. Haldir vaguely remembered mentioning something about how Orophin could make better, and of her replying that would he please stop talking about people she'd never heard of as if she should have. But the lull in their seemingly constant motion had set his mind toward more internal thoughts.  
He found himself staring out into space, his vision unfocused, though subconsciously he realized that he was staring at her hand where it lay draped absently over his arm, the fingers relaxed except every now-and-then when she waved them to express a point. It made him think of that moment just a day before, when she had set her hand against his. And that made him think of how neutral she could become in the blink of an eye, and that in turn led him to think of how much she had changed in one rising of the sun. A day ago, she would have rather died a nervous wreck than even come near him. Except for that one moment... that one moment when she was being herself, her own curious, inquisitive self, and not the paranoid creature that she had been raised to become in the presence of an elf.  
And that made him think of the last time that he had touched her arm. His own fury that she had been so careless was beyond him. Why did he care if she gave herself away? He had no reason to feel that he had to prove himself, and if the blame were placed upon him, he could easily say that he thought his own lie about her circumstance was true. The only reason, then, was because she had come to mean enough to him that he couldn't bear the thought that she would be discovered. Natural, of course. He had joined the Guard to protect people. Death, under any circumstance, seemed a terrible thing to him, worse even than to others of his own race.  
At least, that is what he told himself. And for all of the flaws in this logic, it was all that he had to go by. He knew her, and he trusted her, and she trusted him. And that he would not betray.  
"Then I suppose how large the harp is would effect the sounds that it could produce?"  
Haldir blinked, his eyes flickering up to meet hers. She was watching him, reading his body language, gathering extra information to add to whatever answer he gave. There was a fain light in her eyes, but it wasn't like the look of Luinhuinë or of her son Airerosion. It was a purely curious, calm, quiet expression, composed and subtle but firm, unwavering but gentle, filled with infinite nuances and vague shadows of thought. Her eyes, he decided, were like watching the world through the reflections of a river at its full - steady and strong, slow and swift at the same time, quieter than rapids and waterfalls, but changing all that it touched all the more fiercely. Slow erosion that leaves wonderful things in its path. There was so much there that would flow by him, and every moment that he didn't stand there staring, who knew what he could miss? But standing there until the end of time itself didn't feel like all that impossible of a feat at all.  
"Haldir, wouldn't Atalante look simply beautiful in this?"  
Erashnak jumped as a wave of fabric flew over her, imprisoned on both sides by Luinhuinë's pale arms as she held a gray-green and silver gown across the orc from behind. Haldir, snapping out of his musings with surprise, chuckled as her eyes widened, obviously appalled by the slender curves and lower cut of the gown.  
"Of course," he said, picking up a sleeve to feel the soft texture of the material. Pursing her lips Erashnak brushed her fingers over the skirts, smiling at the strange knew attraction for her senses.  
"And I have a gift for you as well, cousin, though I'm not certain you deserve it," said Luinhuinë, holding out her balled fists until he opened up his hands under them so that she could drop a broach onto his long fingers.  
"A swan," said Haldir, holding up the figure of a great bird in his hand, its wings outspread and its long neck arched. "How appropriate."  
Erashnak leaned in closer to look at the broach as the two of them laughed. 'Swan,' she mouthed wordlessly, wondering where she had seen a 'swan' before. It was a beautiful creature, she decided, her eyes tracing the gleam of the evening sun as it arched over the bird's graceful features.  
"I've wanted to give you this ever since you became a Captain, though you must know that I do not want you to keep it," said Luinhuinë, and Erashnak thought of asking what she meant, but such thoughts had become common to her mind and so she chose to ignore it.  
Haldir smiled vaguely, his eyes distant for a moment before turning back to look at his cousin as if waking up from a dream. "Thank you, Luinhuinë. You are the most wonderful, of course."  
"Yes, yes, but Atalante needed something to wear to go before Galadriel, as I suppose she must, and that broach... belongs to you... I believe. I really do wish that you would spend at least one night with us, and not go off in such a hurry," said Luinhuinë as she handed the gown to a maidservant to be folded and packed properly.  
"And I am sorry that we must go, but we must," said Haldir, encircling his cousin in a fond embrace. "And soon, I believe, if we wish to reach the outpost in time to make it to Caras Galadhon before the hour grows too late. As it is we must ride through the night."  
"Then I suppose there is nothing for it," she said, breaking away from her cousin to give Erashnak a much more formal embrace. Haldir gave the orc an encouraging smile as fear flashed across her eyes in a burst of renewed instinct, and Erashnak sighed, trying to return the gesture as well as she could.  
"Farewell," she murmured, lacing her fingers, "and thank you."  
Luinhuinë gave a smile tinged with sadness as Erashnak had come to believe that all things were, and hugged her cousin again.  
"Come then, if you must. I've ordered one of our own horses for you, and taken the liberty of packing a fine supply of baggage for you to take home. And if I don't get to see you again for the Valar know how long, remember that I know where you live, and I have many sons. Goodbye, Haldir."  
"Was that a threat?" asked Haldir, inclining an eyebrow. "Perhaps I should visit more often."  
"See that you do," said Luinhuinë, sighing as she saw a rather large and well-laden horse follow a stablehand out of the barns now not a hundred yards away.  
"I'm sorry that I can't see you off, but as it is it will be dark by the time I am home. Safe journey, cousin. Farewell."  
There was another round of goodbyes, and Luinhuinë turned away reluctantly and strode down to the market with a wave of her hand, soon disappearing among the elaborate streets. Haldir stared after her for a moment with a hint of a smile on his lips before turning around and sweeping his eyes over the mount.  
"I suppose that you have never ridden before, so I asked for only one horse. And I fine one at that; perhaps we might make up some time on the way - are you alright?" asked Haldir as he turned to look at Erashnak, his brow furrowing.  
The orc had stayed back at least ten paces, her eyes wide with something like only half-defeated fear. Her gaze was glued to the beast, flinching as it swung its head to look at her. They stared at each other for a moment that lingered on to more, and Haldir stepped toward Erashnak to get a better look at her face, becoming anxious of her silent, rapt attentions on the horse.  
At this Erashnak glanced at him, her expression far more calm now that she seemed certain that the creature wasn't going to attack her at the moment, her back still rigid.  
"I've heard about such things," she said, her eyes darting to the creature and back, "but I never thought they were real. What did you call... it?"  
Haldir shook his head with a grin at the expression on her face as she set her eyes roving over their mount. "A horse, I believe. They're quite harmless - especially such as this mare. Go and give her a chance to smell you before we mount up and you will see."  
"Mount up?" said Erashnak, her eyes growing wide. "Do you mean that you honestly intend to get on top of that thing?"  
"Yes, as do you. Now stop acting as if you've never seen a horse before and let us get on the road before too many start forming suspicions."  
Before Erashnak could blurt five syllables of her protest Haldir had taken her by the arm and nearly dragged her for a few steps before his warning glare set her feet to walking once more. Now facing the monstrous beast she stared up at it with a mixture of horror, curiosity and excitement in her strange eyes.  
Haldir took hold of her hand and set it palm-up just under the horse's nose, lacing his fingers around hers from the back as she went to pull away. The beast blinked at the curious elf-like being before her and took a deep breath of her scent before blowing out gently against her palm. Erashnak, still straining backward, suddenly froze as the creature set her velvety muzzle against her skin.  
A smile played with the corners of the orc's pale lips to her dismay, but in a moment that dismay was forgotten as her fingers brushed across the long hairs on the horse's chin before reaching up to stroke the soft fur of her nose. Haldir let go of her hand, and slowly remembering the elf's existence Erashnak turned and they gave each other a soft smile.  
A smile... thought Erashnak. Amazing how a thing that had been such a rarity just a single rising of the sun ago had now become such a well excepted custom. She loved to see people smile, she realized, and broadened her own grin just to see Haldir do the same. Infectious, really, smiling.  
The horse snorted and Erashnak leapt to the side like a startled hare, Haldir just keeping her from falling as she stumbled into him. The orc glared at him as he laughed, but sighed and shook her head. Her eyes were becoming dry and her eyelids heavy, bringing soft thoughts of sleep to her mind once more.  
"Haldir," she said, and he gazed down at her from so close that Erashnak marveled that she was not afraid. "Where are we going? Why must we hurry?"  
"We are going to Caras Galadhon, the city where Lord Celeborn and Lady Galadriel dwell. No doubt you will be expected to go before them, to decide what must be done with you. I suppose they will try to find you a good foster family - you seem a bit young for much anything else, though I suppose you could become a maid to some Lady. But don't worry so much about that yet. There is a long ride before us."  
"We will... ride... through the night?" asked Erashnak, trying to focus on the journey and put the destination out of her mind. "Are you not tired after staying up all night?"  
"Not really," said Haldir with a smile. "I did sleep a little while you were being tortured, as you would put it. But I suppose I'll be ready enough for a few days rest when this mission is over. You are quite a taxing quest."  
Erashnak turned and waved him away with a sigh that was interrupted by a yawn. Haldir chuckled, tugging at a strand of her hair to make her think he was on the other side of her before deftly picking her up and sitting her on the horse. She gave a muffled yelp before clutching the saddle and becoming so rigid she might be made of stone.  
"Had to get you up there somehow, now didn't I? And don't bother to tell me that you would have gotten up yourself," said Haldir, shaking his head as he swing himself into the saddle. The horse took a step, shifting its weight, and Erashnak threw her arms around the elf, squeezing her eyes shut and clenching her teeth.  
"I thought you might like to sit behind," he smiled, finding it a bit hard to breathe when she squeezed so tightly, "so that you could hold on yourself, and not have to trust me to hold on to you. But I swear to you that this beast will not let you fall. I didn't know I was so much better than a horse...," he added when she didn't let go.  
"I don't know how you stand this," came the muffled reply, Erashnak's face pressed into his back.  
Haldir touched his heels to the mare, quickly moving up to a trot. It was best to get away from civilization at the moment, with Erashnak acting as if she were sitting on top of a balrog. He sighed as he felt the orc's grip tighten in fear, wondering if letting her sit behind was really all that good of an idea.  
"Neither do I," he said, as the dark shadow of the forest rose to meet them even as the bright colors of nightfall set the sky ablaze with the promise of a new morning after the long, healing dark to come.  
  
A/N #2: And there you have it. I know it took forever, and I hope it wasn't too disappointing. I've been really depressed lately, if you couldn't tell by all of the excuses I made for them to touch each other. I need a hug -sobs-. Anyway, I'm hoping to at least write a chapter a week. If I miss a week, then you can be pretty sure that my teachers are being mean with their homework assignments. I don't think I'll be able to add a new chappie next week though, because my friends have decided that I would be fun to go camping. Wooooppppieeee......... Until next time, then! 


	7. Follow Your Dreams

Shades of Gray  
  
A/N #1: Well, forget camping. In fact, forget everything. Isabel had other ideas, obviously. -sigh- So here I am, with Chapter 7 just for you! And yes, I have noticed how terrible the spacing is and how hard it is to read. I'm fixing all of the chapters... it shouldn't take long save for the fact that I'm trying to find all of my errors as well, and trying to rescue my poor punctuations! I'm not used to working on WordPad... I normally use Word, but it no longer works for me, Lord knows why. I'm still working on that. -sigh again- Oh well... I feel like writing mush. MWAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!!!!  
  
Chapter 7: Follow Your Dreams  
  
~*~  
  
"Come on Era, hurry up," called a faceless voice from above, and Erashnak glanced toward the sound for a moment before quickly reverting her gaze to make sure that her next foothold was secure. The cliff wall was beginning to curve outward again, and her long fingers were too flimsy to hold her up for long if she lost her footing. She sighed at the thought, knowing that she was slowing them down. A proper orc shouldn't have to rely on her feet so much - their arms were perfectly strong enough to hold them up. But not Erashnak's. In fact, she couldn't even climb downwards unless she went backwards - feet first - or else she would fall and break her neck. And a bit more besides, at this height, she realized as she looked down.  
  
"Stop gawking and climb, Era! I've seen you scramble up cliffs twice this height in half the time. A few more steps and you're there! Can you believe it? I never thought we'd make it. Can you feel that wind?"  
  
"It's so c-cold," stuttered the younger version of Erashnak, her teeth chattering. Climbing light was all well and good, but she wished she'd had the sense to wear something a bit warmer than a now sleeveless tunic under her patched apprentice armor. And cold, for an orc of Moria, was very cold indeed.  
  
"Yes, but it's worth it. You'll see. Here - one more step, come on, there! Now give me your hand."  
  
Erashnak did as she was told, and clenched her fingers around her brother's wrist as he easily lifted her up as if she were a rag doll. She let herself drape over her skeleton as he set her down, her legs curling under her and her back hunched.  
  
"Come on, it isn't that bad," said the older orc, his hands swallowing hers as he pulled her up. "You were the one who talked me into it, at that. Shameful, you little wood-witch."  
  
"Hmmm," muttered Erashnak, letting her brother's long arms encircle her shoulders, grateful of the warmth he lent her. Erudak, she decided, was the only one whom she could tolerate calling her elf-names.  
  
"Come on then," he said, tugging at a lock of her strange hair with a smile.  
  
"Are t-those the only t-two words you k-know?" she grumbled, thinking of how sore her bare feet were going to be later. What if the Balrog woke up and found them so far away from the deep... and so close to the territory that every orc seemed to mark as his...  
  
How could she have told him about how much she wanted to do this? How could she not realize that he would expect her to do it... This was Erudak, by the Valar! He would never let her leave a dream unfulfilled. 'Follow your dreams,' he would say when she argued, 'or they'll just go on without you.' Men!  
  
"As a matter of fact, no. And for that, hurry up! I'm not staying up here all day. Let's go and be gone before you turn any bluer and Mother finds out that we're up here. I don't want to see that look on her face again," said Erudak, rolling his eyes as if he would make his words into a prayer if it would help.  
  
"You're the o-one who d-dragged me up here."  
  
"You're the one who wanted to come."  
  
"I d-didn't mean l-literately," Erashnak stammered, blinking as she saw her breath puff out in a cloud of smoke.  
  
"Yes," said Erudak, "breath does that all the time in the cold. You just can't see it in the deep. Isn't it strange? Like your own little cloud."  
  
"Mmmm," mumbled Erashnak again, huddling into her brother's side.  
  
They walked for a while, the cold, bleak light growing around them, but to Erashnak it seemed so bright that she had to shield her eyes. Erudak did as well, she noticed, and smiled. At least she wasn't different in every way.  
  
Suddenly, and for the first time ever to the younger orc's memory, the rock was no more and gray sky filled the new void with a lofty weightlessness that sent Erashnak's mind reeling. Cold wind blasted over them, and they dropped to their knees as it almost sent them backwards. Erudak crawled to the ledge and waved for his sister to follow, a gleaming smile of his face and star-lights in his eyes, but Erashnak was hesitant, feeling so naked and exposed in the open air. She had never felt real wind before, and the sudden absence of walls made her head feel light. She didn't know what she had expected, but this wasn't it.  
  
But, as in anything for an orc so young, curiosity won out in the end and she scrambled to her brother's side, gawking up at the last few hundred feet left of the great mountain that their unknowing home had rested under for so long. And yet, this was the first time she had ever seen it. But even in the massive presence of this mighty spear of sharp, snow mantled stone, her attentions were drawn to an even more fascinating spectacle, her eyes wide despite the biting wind as she drank in the new world around her as if she had been dying of thirst. Perhaps, in a way, she had.  
  
The world opened up before her like a giant flower, its leaves bursting with new colors for which Erashnak had no name and its vast beauty singing in her veins as she felt her heart thump against her chest in harsh, raw, untamable excitement. The sky, ominous to those who dwelt even then under its gloom, was a bright array of endless light in the eyes of the young orc, a tiny speck beside a larger speck, kneeling on a windswept precipice of a cold and lonely mountain in the middle of a world that she had only dreamt about for so long.  
  
'Follow your dreams,' said the soft, gentle voice in her mind, 'or they'll just go on without you.'  
  
'What's beyond these mountains?' her mind screamed. 'And those ones, over there? And what does that forest really look like, and that lake, does it have a name? Those plains, how many days would it take to travel across them? Look, a bird, a real bird! Please, please come closer! Do you have a name, little bird?'  
  
But then, in the distance, a glimmer of silver-bright radiance caught her eye for but a moment. The ocean? Could it be? But the light was gone as quickly as it had come, and she strained over the edge to see it again, hungry for the wonders of this new world.  
  
"You see that," said Erudak, breaking into her reverie. "That forest there, that's called Lothlorien. There's elves live there, and a wood- witch, just like you."  
  
"E-elves," said Erashnak, her still-chattering voice incredulous as she gawked at the wood, admiring the strange trees that she could just make out through the mist. They didn't seem to grow anywhere else, she noticed with a thoughtful frown. "I d-didn't think they w-were so c-close. Maybe I n-never t-thought they were r-real. They always s-seemed like a s-story, and n-nothing more."  
  
"They're real alright," said Erudak in a far colder tone, slipping into his big brother voice. "And they're just that - too close. That's why we can never leave Moria, Era. Elves are nothing but murderers. Because of them we have to scrape a life off of the stones, never able to hunt, never able to go and drink clear water. Never able to see the stars."  
  
Erashnak remained silent, crowding closer to her brother unconsciously, her knees drawn up to her chin and her pale arms wrapped around them. She felt Erudak's long arms wrap around her as well, rocking her gently back-and-forth, and she felt hot tears prick at her eyes and spill over, biting her cold cheeks as they froze at once.  
  
'Never leave Moria?' she thought, glancing down as if expecting to see the shattered fragments of her dreams glinting at her feet in the insipid light. 'How can I follow my dreams, when all they lead to is heartache?'  
  
~*~  
  
Erashnak woke with a start, gasping at the breath of warm air that puffed in her face and latching on to the figure before her with a yelp as she almost slide off of the... horse... that they both sat astride. A procession of harsh shivers ran down her spine as the suddenly warmer night air all around struck against what should be raw, wind-blasted skin, now not only cold but clammy as well. But none was as warm as the breath that had awoken her.  
  
She felt the figure before her, onto which she was now firmly latched, shake with laugher, and turned her face into a cascade of fine silver-gold hair when she tried to look at him and see just what was so amusing. And though, for a moment, she felt as if she should be concerned, she became aware of how heavy her eyelids had become once more, and how little she really cared. Giving a soft moan she shifted her weight with as little movement as she could, and slumped against his back once more.  
  
"I'm sorry," said a voice somewhere deep inside Haldir's chest, or so it seemed to Erashnak, her ear pressed against his back, "but I had to wake you. Erashnak?"  
  
murmuring some dim reply about wind and mountains and flowers, the orc moved to look at the elf, who nearly smiled again to see her twisted into such a strange shape even as his face was painted with concern.  
  
"I'm sorry I had to wake you, but if you're going to sleep, you have to sit in front. This horse will not let you fall, but if you slide off she cannot stop you, nor can I."  
  
"Do you always breath in people's faces when they are asleep," drawled Erashnak, unfolding to rest her chin on his shoulder, her head lolling to the side.  
  
"I do when they've become deaf to the world and turn such a lovely shade of blue. Are you well?" asked Haldir, frowning as he inclined his head, trying to get enough space between their faces so that he could focus on her features.  
  
"Mmmm," replied Erashnak, not wanting to loose the wonderful, peaceful sleep-feeling that still lingered over her like the sun-warmth of a rock, remaining even as the evening chills. "Just a dream."  
  
At the moment, even Erashnak was too tired for elaborations.  
  
Haldir sighed, shaking his head, and a smile played with the corners of his lips as the orc's eyes fluttered and closed yet again. He elbowed her in the stomach this time, and she gasped before groaning at him, the pitch of her voice rising to something near a whine.  
  
"Are you awake now?"  
  
"Yes," she mumbled, lifting her head and then thunking it back down against his shoulder in exasperation. "Yes," she repeated, and continued the sequence again. It made her dizzy, she realized with a giggle, this head-thunking thing. She grinned hysterically, her shoulders shaking as they tried to sag.  
  
"Good," said Haldir, and before she knew quite what was happening there was nothing before her anymore, and Erashnak pitched forward, nearly banging her nose off of the horse's withers.  
  
"You'll have to move up a bit," said the elf, his voice seeming wrong as it came from so much farther down, and she lifted herself into a sitting position to stare down at him, blinking. He lifted an eyebrow, and she glanced back at the saddle beneath her, finally catching the drift of what he was saying and scooting forward.  
  
She clutched at the beast's mane as the saddle shifted, edging even further forward with a start as she felt the elf swing his leg over and sit down behind her. This was very uncomfortable, she realized, for in this position she would be forced to sit rigid and upright or slide even further forward and let the cantle splay her legs even more. And with the dull ache that was rising up in protest already, both the former and the latter were not an option. Her tailbone couldn't take much more of this.  
  
"Swing your leg over the horse's neck," supplied a voice from behind her, "And it will be more comfortable for both of us. I promise not to let you fall," he added.  
  
Erashnak glanced back at him, realizing that Haldir would be forced to reach a hand around her on either side to hold to reins, and have to lean over her to see the path before them properly. Not to mention that she would be forced to slide back against him so that he could even use said reins, and they would be so plastered together that it drove another shiver down her spine, though she did not quite know why.  
  
But, if she took his advise, she would be completely putting herself into his care. He would be able to hold the reins with one hand, and hold her on with the other. But if he let go, she would slide off within seconds, quite possibly head-first, to great injury... death, even, she realized with widened eyes.  
  
"I swear it," came his surprisingly tender reply. "I will not let you fall."  
  
Her head light, Erashnak gave a slow nod, swaying where she sat. It was strange, of course, nodding at the empty space between the horse's ears, but the elf behind her seemed to get the message, a smile spreading over his lips in reply to the strange look she was giving the creature.  
  
But such a simple theory was far more complicated than it seemed, really. The orc had to lean back to swing her leg over, and Haldir was forced to cross an arm over her collar and shoulders to keep her steady as she began to slip to the side. And once her leg was over, there came the task of finding the balance of where she needed to be sitting for the comfort of both of them. But, in the end, and not before a few bouts of laughter, Erashnak found herself half-laying, half-sitting in the elf's care, the faint smile on her lips reflecting the like on his.  
  
The horse, now thoroughly disgruntled by their strange doings and the fact that she had been forced to stand still for nearly a quarter of an hour, lifted a foot and stamped it back down on the path with fervor.  
  
Erashnak flinched, and then internally scolded herself for the fact that she still could not put all of her faith in the elf. But, for once, Haldir actually didn't seem to mind. Perhaps he hadn't noticed, she thought blandly, as he gathered the reins. She could feel his muscles flex as he touched his heels to the horse's sides, seeming completely oblivious to the fact that she was currently white-knuckled, her fingers in a death grip on his tunic, which would soon be very wrinkled indeed.  
  
Breathing deeply, in out, in out, she tried to make herself get used to the horse's rolling walk once more, but Haldir soon pushed them into a trot, and Erashnak found herself burrowing her face into his shoulder. His sigh, exasperated, seemed to rumble in her ear, and she listened to it curiously. The sound faded away into silence once more, but then faintly she became aware of the fact that she could hear him breathe, which she had never thought of before, for he breathed so softly. And, even deeper in the myriad of sounds, she could hear his heartbeat, so low and steady that it began to seem as if she felt it, rather than heard it. The echoing clip- clop of the horse's hooves blending with the rhythm, and for a moment she wondered if it were not her own heartbeat she was hearing, for there was no 'beat-beat, beat-beat, beat-beat.' It was slow, firm, steady as the foundations of the earth, 'beat-beat-beat-beat-beat...' She wondered if he could hear it too.  
  
Taking a deep breath she sighed, realizing with a sleepy smile that she had now regained Haldir's scent on her skin, and the thought felt bittersweet, for this familiarity was the only one that could be regained. But she laughed within herself to notice that Haldir was also gaining the smell of her, as well as the lingering smell of the soaps she had been washed with. According to the unspoken customs of those she had come from, they were part of each other now - family. An orc and an elf.  
  
She opened the only eye she could, the other too pressed against him, and gazed up past the elf's face, seeming deep within his own thoughts as he gazed out ahead of them. The trees were darker blotches against the blue- black night sky, the cold lights of the stars winking as the leaves played over them. It was very late - or very early. The cool breeze, nothing near the cold of her dream, washed like silk over her face, toying with gossamer tendrils of her hair and his, refreshing and calming and soothing beyond measure. It was impossible to resist its tantalizing caress, and Erashnak turned her face upward, letting her eyelids fall closed as the night brushed against her pale skin.  
  
The only reminder of all the heartache that her dreams had led her to thus far lay only in the strength of the elf's arm against her back, and the warmth he emanated at her side, and the dissolving rhythm of the horse's rolling gait beneath her. And, surprisingly, it didn't seem all that terrible at all.  
  
~*~  
  
The night wore on and the moon rose, drifting across the sky in the subtle dance of the hours like a dancer on a stage of cobalt glass. Slipping from his labyrinth of thoughts, slow as if wading through a flood, Haldir turned his face upward the gaze at it, still a slender young sickle in the sky, casting but a faint silver halo against the dark endlessness beyond.  
  
Then he noticed a far nearer luminescence, and glanced down to see the vague reflection of the stars in Erashnak's tire-clouded eyes, seeming to gaze up from within a realm between sleep and awakening. The moon, even such a dim, slender thing as it was, set a glow to the orc's pale-dark skin, and her strange hair gleamed with a dull silver that he couldn't recall seeing there before, her near weightless form resting against him, a peaceful warmth spreading from her skin to his, and threading through his veins as if to ward off the night chill.  
  
The ghost of a smile settled on his lips as her eyes cast to the side to meet his gaze, and he was startled to see how deep the endless wells of her eyes truly were, extended beyond the waking world into the realm near dreams. If he looked, very closely, he thought, he could see another picture besides his own reflection in them, images shimmering like water as it burst into the pool beyond a spring, full of clear, pure life.  
  
She blinked, under his gaze, and turned into him further, stealing her eyes from his view as a vague smile spread over her lips. Unconsciously he pulled her closer, so that a whispered word, though he knew not why he was whispering, could be heard. Peace, the night seem to say. Quiet, stillness, serenity.  
  
"You never told me what you dreamt," he said, his voice little more than a breath.  
  
"Hmmm," came the reply, the orc's eyelids half-opening for a moment before falling shut once more.  
  
"I do not know how you can be so tired," he smiled, shaking his head.  
  
"I am," she said into his shoulder, and he felt the warmth of her breath like a burning brand when the night had grown so cool around them. "Blood tired, bone weary," she mumbled, shifting her weight again, but finding the task too difficult and giving up.  
  
Sighing Haldir readjusted the way she lay in his arms for her, and caught a glimmer of her laughing eyes in reward.  
  
"Perhaps you'll tell me, someday," he said.  
  
"Tell you what...," her voice faded away into a content sigh.  
  
"Your dream."  
  
Her heavy eyelids lifted once more, for but a moment, as if to be certain that he was being serious. He gave her a gentle smile, and she returned it with the smile of one who had found peace, at last, and could not be interrupted with annoyance, surprise, or amusement.  
  
"Perhaps," she breathed, and he watched as her grip on his tunic, already weakened, was lost completely, her hand resting over the wrinkled fabric as if trying to feel his heartbeat, or to heal him.  
  
"Sleep well," he murmured, turning his gaze ahead of them once more.  
  
~*~  
  
A/N #2: Awwwwwwww.... sweet, short chapter. Erashnak's so cute when she's sleeping. Well, I don't know when my next update will be, because now we're going to try to camp out NEXT weekend. -sigh- But, no doubt, something else will happen, and I'll be here writing :).  
  
And by the way, anyone who has ever ridden a really wide-backed work horse or in a really small saddle knows what I'm talking about in this chapter. Splayed legs and long rides do NOT go together. After a while, your tailbone begins to feel like its turning into a full-fledged tail and burning through your skin. Not a nice experience. No, I think not. -evil grin- 


	8. The Wheel Turns, and Returns

The Wheel Turns, and Returns

Hi, this is me. Okay, so you knew that. My point is, I have done one of the most terrible deeds known to authors. I have... dropped... my story, spit on it, given it a good kick, ran it through a shredder, and thrown the sad, sorry fragments away. Then I rewrote it. Yes, I know. I'm the spawn of evil.

The first thing that I want you to know is that I sincerely thank all of you for sticking with me. I couldn't have made it even as far as I did without you. Kudos to the reviewers! -group hug-

On a more somber note, you should also know that I had a big, long explanation for you all typed out. But then I pitched that, too, and wrote the following. All you need to know is this: I hate, with every fiber of my being, the fanfiction Shades of Gray. Yes, I do.

I tried to reason with myself. There are people who like this fic - I should keep writing. And I tried. But every time I went to open the file for Chapter 8, and even 7 and 6 before it, I felt absolutely sick. Couldn't do it, no matter how often I told myself that I should. Finally it came to the point when I was like, ok, this is just not happening.

You really don't need to know why, nor, I suppose, do you really care. I was going to tell you, had it all typed up, but I've got enough people walking around thinking I'm strange. And I'm not strange. I'm just not normal. My true passion is writing, and not what I was writing in Shades of Gray, which I began when the approaching return to school gave me an otherworldly longing to do something, anything, to take my mind off of it. So I wrote a very, very ill-planned fanfiction. Surprisingly, some people liked it. Bit strange yourselves, if you ask me.

But, I decided, I'd rather ditch this and write what I love than sit here and force out a few pages of rubbish just because a few people left reviews. Nope, I'm movin' on. No worries - I'm not trashing the idea, like I said. I'm rewriting it, hopefully making it what I wanted it to be when I first got the idea almost three years ago. Same basic idea. Same basic characters. As for the rest... well, don't hold your breath. Not for too long, at least.

Well, that's all I really have to say here. Go read Deep Water Rising, or abandon me. Shades of Gray will stay up for a while, to help people find the knew fic. If you, for whatever reason, happen to like it enough, then save it on your computer. You can have it. (Still think you're strange.)

I'm sad though - got my first ever flame just as I started to rewrite. And it wasn't even a good one. I feel cheated. Oh well, onward, I suppose, to knew and better flames.

In the end, you realize there is no end.

Farewell.


End file.
